


Storm of Ice

by Sirenfox



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dragons, M/M, Pre-Movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3422969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirenfox/pseuds/Sirenfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Frost is a new spirit, exploring the dangerously exciting new world full of wonder and magic.  But something lurks in the shadows.  A darkness that will consume everything in its path.  All Pitch has to do is keep the brat separated from the guardians…but that’s not going to be an easy task when the boy is more or less twitterpated and has his own personal pookan stalker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

* * *

Shadows flickered and danced in the light of the fire playing in the middle of the square. Strange shapes seemed to loom out of the darkness, but upon closer inspection there was nothing there. Only darkness.

Just out of sight, on the edge of the human's comprehension, something moved…shifted in the night. The eerie cry of an owl rent the still night air, the sound ripping through a slightly open window causing a tiny little girl to start violently before curling up further in her bed. Her breathing was erratic, and her eyes darted around her bedroom, which had quickly changed from her sanctuary to a torture chamber.

Shadows shifted at the foot of her bed and something darker than black loomed over her. Tall, thin and utterly terrifying. Poisonous yellow eyes stared down at her from a face made out of dry bone, a sharp smile curled a thin lipped mouth into a grotesque shape.

The child whimpered and the figure let out a low rumbling chuckle that shook the bed the little girl was cowering on.

Gathering up what little courage the child could find, she cried out, "J-Jack!" The figure's smile melted into a sneer and he leaned over the bed. His hands were braced on either side of her legs, tendrils of black smoke curled around her shivering form, causing her fear to spike into terror.

Before Pitch could truly savor the flavor of her absolute horror, the door crashed open and another figure stepped into the room.

Pitch snarled, turning on the boy, who didn't pay him any mind. This new child was short for his age, and unusually thin from the harsh winter. Messy brown hair topped a thin, impish face. "Penelope? Pip, are you alright? What's wrong?" The boy asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

The shadows that had previously been shifting around the room slid back into their original places and Pitch growled at them in irritation.

"There was a shadow." The little girl explained shakily, sliding onto her brother's lap and curling up in the safety of his arms. "I was scared."

"Ah, well, I'm here now and no shadow can get you while I'm protecting you." The boy informed her seriously, a hand absently rubbing up and down her back. "Why don't you try to go back to sleep, we've got a big day tomorrow."

"I…stay?" She pleaded, looking up at him with big watery brown eyes.

Jack melted. "Always." He whispered.

Pitch watched the siblings, his face twisted in anger and disbelief. How could this…slip of a boy…dispel this girl's fear so quickly and completely? Pitch had never encountered anything like it before, not even from the Guardians.

Pitch had sown his seeds deep within the girl's heart, she should still be a quivering mess, fear clinging to the back of her mind.

But she wasn't. There was no fear left in the child at all.

It should be impossible.

Turning narrowed eyes on the boy he scanned the waif thoughtfully. He'd have to keep an eye on this one, he decided as he slipped into the shadows to go terrify some other child.

Even so he couldn't quite shake the experience from his thoughts and Jack lurked in the recesses of Pitch's mind, a boogeyman for the Boogeyman.

_*****Frostbunny***** _

Like any good businessman, Pitch kept to a schedule. Sure, people got scared all the time, even in the light of day, but the best time for fear was at night, when the darkness seeped over the land and coated the world in superstitious dread.

The shadows of night were the perfect time for Pitch to sow his seeds and nurture them into crippling fear. Daytime was his time to plot and scheme, working on his next big stunt to overthrow those pesky Guardians.

So, it was with great surprise that a spike of delicious terror struck him in the middle of broad daylight, causing him to stop everything he was doing to simply savor it. Then a second spike made itself known and Pitch's eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

Now what was this? Pitch had never felt this fear before. But how was that even possible?

Wicked curiosity curled in his gut and he just had to go investigate; see for himself who this new delicious fear belonged to.

It was with great reluctance that Pitch stepping out into the sun, cringing as the light burned his eyes and prickled his skin. This was why he liked to stay inside during the day, it was downright uncomfortable to work in these conditions. He was tempted to retreat to his den and not worry about finding the source of the fear…but…

No. He needed to find out, because that fear…it was just so new and so strong…he had to know. He needed to know so he could cultivate more of it.

The fear was so strong that it permeated the air and Pitch was able to follow it back to where it stemmed from.

Snow crunched under his feet and icicles spiked down from tree branches, the deadly cold of winter was strong this year, as was proven by the two figures Pitch could see out on the lake. Pitch walked closer, eyeing the two with unparalleled interest.

It was with a hint of surprise that Pitch recognized the children. Why, he'd been at their house just a few nights prior, harvesting the fear in little Penelope when her annoying older brother had interrupted and banished any trace of it from the girl. In fact, he had needed to replant the seed in the girl, since even that was gone.

It was extremely inconvenient.

Her fear was familiar, and the presence of it made Pitch smile cruelly, but it was Jack's fear that truly interested him. Why had he never felt this boy's fear before, and what had caused it to show up now?

A loud cracking sound caught his attention and suddenly he knew. Oh. Oh, this was good. He couldn't have done a better job himself. Winter was always a bit fickle, and it seemed that little Miss Penelope had found herself a patch of dangerously thin ice.

"We're going to play hopscotch." The boy's voice cut through Pitch's gleeful thoughts and he watched as Jack tried to calm his sister, batting down his own crippling fear just to ease hers. "Like we do everyday." He continued, and Pitched watched avidly as the boy, fear curling in his heart for his precious sister, slowly crept across the frozen water. Warning crackles sounded from under the boy's feet, causing him to wince.

Then he looked up and saw his sister's face and that wince turned into a shaky laugh as he pretended to fall, the girl giggled and some of her fear just melted away.

Pitch frowned. Even when she was in grave danger Jack was able to chase away her fears. It was frustrating, but Jack's fear was only growing with each moment that passed and that more than made up for it in Pitch's eyes.

Another torrent of ominous cracks rose from under the slip of a girl's feet as she skittered forwards hesitantly. "That's it." Her brother coaxed, his voice low and soothing, belying the fear Pitch could practically taste rolling off him in waves.

Then, quick as a snake, Jack lurched forward, swinging his wooden staff towards the little girl, hooking her around the waist. With a great heaving thrust he spun them around, tossing his beloved sister to safety. Unfortunately the momentum of his swing propelled him backwards to take her place on the unstable sheet of ice.

"Jack!" The girl squealed happily, and Jack lifted his head to grin at his sister.

Pitch frowned as for a split second all fear left both children and they shared a moment of sheer joy, before the ice gave a terrifying shriek. Jack's eyes widened and a terror so deep and profound punched him in the gut as the ice under him gave way.

His sister screamed his name. But it was too late.

Jack was gone, sinking under the ice as the lake swallowed him whole.

Pitch stared at the spot Jack had disappeared from for a while, mildly surprised by this inevitable, yet tragic turn of events. The boy's cloying fear was still thick and strong, and it was growing stronger every moment.

This particular strain of fear Pitch knew all too well, as it was the most common form among adults. One rarely felt in one so young.

Fear of death. Jack was dying.

No surprise there. He had just slipped into a frozen lake.

Pitch then fixed his eyes on the hysterically screaming little girl. He almost couldn't feel her fear now, Jack's was so overwhelmingly strong that it blocked everything else out.

It wasn't long before the fear started to fade before disappearing altogether. And that was Pitch's cue to leave. There was nothing left for him here, and it was still high noon so he really would prefer to be safely ensconced in his lair.

_*****Frostbunny** _ *******

It wasn't until early spring that pitch realized that something was up. He was out paying a visit to his current favorite victim-the young Miss Penelope- and when he materialized from the shadows of her yard he was nearly blinded by the moon.

Crying out in shock and dismay he quickly retreated to the shadows, where he glared up at the sky while he tried to recover his dignity. "What foul trick are you up to this time?" He growled at the moon, who simply winked smugly back at him.

Snarling in agitation, Pitch stalked away from his prey, he had more important things to do…like thwarting whatever plot the Man in the Moon had thought up this time.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack runs into a little bit of trouble and finds something new. Pitch puts his plans into action.

 

Cold. That was the first thing that came when he drifted back to awareness. His whole body was so cold it was numb, and felt heavy. There was no way to know how long he lay suspended in the abyss of nothingness. He couldn't really find it in himself to care about it anyway.

It was the realization that he was cold that drew him back to himself. That slow burn of icy awareness seeped into him and slowly he became aware of other things. Such as his cold heavy limbs. Slowly, as if his body had a mind of It's own, his eyelashes slowly lifted and he was faced with his next revelation: It was dark.

That darkness was so complete that if he hadn't felt his eyes open he would have thought nothing had changed.

He stared in befuddlement at the black expanse of space that stretched out endlessly before him.

It was cold.

And it was dark.

And he was scared.

The fear quickly overshadowed everything else. In fact the cold and dark seemed to be an embodiment of his fear. It was so overpowering and seemed to freeze him in place.

Again there was no telling how long he spent encompassed in that all consuming fear. It could have been mere moments, or it could have been centuries.

Forever, frozen in a cocoon of heart stopping fear.

Then came the light. It pierced through the darkness like a gentle smile, warm and welcoming.

He felt himself reaching out for that wonderful new thing. The light wrapped around him, lifting him up, shattering the confines of his cell and pulling him into the clear wonderfully cool night air.

A gasp escaped his lips and he was gently placed down, a small part of him noting the shattered surface he was placed on smoothing out, mending, at his touch.

He sat there, dazed, for a long time simply staring at his hands, before lifting his eyes to the sky. That was when he took his first real look at the moon.

Sure, he had been staring straight at it when he'd been lifted from his cage, but he might have been a little preoccupied with other things when that had happened, such as his first taste of freedom. But now, now he saw. The moon.

Oh, the moon.

It was so big.

And it was so bright.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from it, mesmerized by it's simple elegance and the subtle pull of magic.

It was while he was staring into the face of that moon that he heard the voice. It was barely a voice at all, merely a whispery touch across his mind granting him knowledge.

A word.

No.

A name.

Jack Frost.

A smile slowly spread over Jack's face, morphing very quickly into an all out grin. Jack Frost. That was his name.

It was that singular burst of childlike joy that sent Jack hurling into the sky, a jet of ice particles dancing in the moonlight in his wake, a dazzling tail of diamond dust trailing behind the beautiful winter sprite.

It was with a single minded determination and youthful wonder that Jack set about discovering who he was and what he could do. A cold wind lifted him into the sky, carrying him with ease and all too willing to do as he bid. Magic sang under his fingertips, sparking out whenever he so much as brushed against an object, be it the ice of the lake or the trunk of a tree, twisting and twirling in little curls of shimmering white glitter that clung to any surface.

It was beautiful, and Jack was so distracted that he remained completely in the dark to the tall figure watching from the shadows on the other side of the lake. A bitter sneer curled the man's lips and he cast a hate filled look at the moon before vanishing from the spot.

The boogeyman had work to do.

 

_******* _

 

A few hours after wakening Jack sat on one of the slanted roofs in the small village he had found. The young man was clutching his side as if in pain and he was staring down into the town square with hurt eyes.

“They can't see me.” he whispered to himself, half afraid that if he said it loud enough no one would hear and he'd be ignored...again. The pain of being invisible was immense, and it had hurt when those people had walked through him, it was a strange sort of pain that Jack doubted he could explain and didn't want to dwell on. In truth Jack wasn't sure which was worse, being seen through or...well...being walked through. To have someone walk through him as if he wasn't even there. It was a physical and mental anguish that had completely caught Jack off guard.

“If...if they can't see me, and they can't touch me...” Jack wondered to himself, feeling as if a heavy stone had lodged itself in his throat, “Then...am I even real?” That agonized question slipped through pale lips and Jack turned tear filled eyes towards the moon hanging low in the night sky.

He waited, with baited breath, for the moon's non-voice to whisper gentle reassurances into his mind and ease this terrifying thought from him.

Long minutes trickled away, slipping silently into the past as Jack waited unusually patiently for his answer. An answer that never came.

As the sun slowly rose to greet the dawn Jack turned his back on the watching moon and stared blankly down at the slowly stirring village below him.

 

_******* _

 

Jack remained on his perch for only a few hours, question after question haunting his thoughts and leading him in a never ending spiral of confusion and sadness.

A light teasing tug on his cape and hair had him looking up from contemplating his toes, “Wha-oh, hi Wind.” He greeted his new companion, which tugged on his cloak again like an overzealous puppy begging to play. A small grin lit his face at the wind's antics, “Okay, okay, I understand. No more moping, I promise.” He said before diving off the roof.

The wind stared down at the winter spirit's plummeting body in surprise for a second longer than Jack had anticipated. He watched the quickly approaching dirt pathway, his eyes widening comically, “Oh, shit! Wind!” He screeched, throwing his arms out in front of him to try to help cushion what was bound to be a painful landing.

Jack's shout snapped the wind into action and it swooped down at record speed to whisk the young man back to safety.

Jack gasped when the wind caught him, his whole body hovering for a long moment and he stared down at the tightly packed earth inches away from his nose.

A hysterical giggle slipped passed the boy's lips, a grin tugging on the corners of his mouth. Giggles quickly grew into full out laughter, and Jack very quickly fell into a laughing fit that none of the passing humans could hear.

Jack chose to pretend they could actually hear him and were giving him amused looks once they had passed behind his back. Not wanting the adrenaline high to stop Jack pulled his feet under him and pushed off, rocketing into the sky with a shout of glee.

He raced across the rooftops, playfully trailing fingertips over windows and doorways, sealing one of them shut with a layer of ice completely on impulse. Jack laughed wickedly and sped off into the trees.

He could spare some time to do a bit of exploring.

He made a game of it, launching himself from tree to tree, leaving different designs every time he made contact. Jack was still laughing to himself when he stumbled into a clearing where he found the strangest creatures. There were two of them, small blue bald little guys that couldn't be taller then his knees. They were stick thin and had huge hooked noses that looked almost like beaks. They each had four long spindly fingers tipped with long talon like fingernails. Each one was sitting on a humungous white wolf, their fur tipped with icicles, and claws that looked like clear jewels.

Both paused in whatever it was they were doing to look at him as he crashed into the tree branch he'd been aiming for.

Jack gasped for breath as he scrambled up onto the branch, ignoring the blossoming ache in his torso. “You can see me?” Jack exclaimed excitedly, leaping down to greet the two strangers. The smaller of the two creatures shrieked loudly when Jack landed and Jack simply smiled, bemused, before moving towards them, fully intent on introducing himself and making a couple friends.

He came to an abrupt halt when the woods around them came to life and a dozen more of the creatures materialized from the cover of the trees. They were all riding the enormous white wolves and all of them had their lips pulled back in sharp toothed snarls.

Jack's eyes widened and he quickly took a step back, only that seemed to make matters worse because the small one from before let out another shrill cry. The wolves launched themselves towards Jack, the small viscous creatures on their backs yelling what Jack thought might be some sort of battle cry.

Jack took off, back into the trees. His heart racing as he sped through the foliage. The creatures right on his heels. He could feel the wolves hot breath and sharp teeth snapping at his feet.

Jack landed on a branch and glanced down just in time to avoid the wolf that dove for him. Instead of waiting around to watch the creatures crash into the tree next to them Jack launched himself at the next creature, swinging his staff around in a wide arch, catching two of the little blue creatures and slamming them into the ground. The wolves they had been sitting on growled and lept at Jack. He dived forward, ducking under them in a summer-salt and coming up on the other side with a blast of ice that caught another attacker full in the face.

Jack didn’t waste any time fleeing again, he lept straight in the air and burst through the tops of the trees. He stayed, hanging in mid air as the little monsters converged on the tops of the trees.

“What did I ever do you you?” He gasped out, staring at them in confusion as he heart rate slowed down again.

The little goblins didn’t answer in any language Jack knew (which consisted of English and English), just spit and snarled and growled in their shrieking high pitched voices.

Jack scoffed at them, as they waves their little spears up at him in what was clearly a threat.

“Yeah, no. I think I’ll stay right here.” Jack told them, making a guess what they were saying. “I’d rather not end up as dinner, thanks.” His calm, taunting words only served to infuriate the little guys and the leader screamed out a shrill command and before Jack could blink they all launched their weapons into the air.

Jack yelped, scrambling with his staff as he flew out of range again, gasping as one of the spears clipped his side.

He clutched at the wound as he glared down at the little menaces, before flying away to lick his wounds in private.

Today had not been as fun as he had thought it would be.

And to top it all off, he had no idea where he was.

***

The little imps shouted insults at the boy’s retreating back as Pitch materialized from the shadows, his eyes golden eyes narrowed. The creatures turned their ugly faces up at Pitch, their eyes glowing maliciously.

Pitch laughed, “You did well.” He commended them, to which they grinned sharply. He didn’t bother saying anything else as he vanished in a shadowy mist.

He materialized back in his lair where a bright ball of golden light cast the stone walls and hanging iron cages in sharp relief.

The ball of light did not belong in his dreary home, and he detested it’s presence. But progress demanded sacrifices, so he ignored his contempt for now. The closer he walked to the orb the more details could be made out, the orb wasn’t, in fact, made of light but tiny grains of golden sand.

Star dust.

Or, as it was now called, dream sand.

The sand swirled lazily in the glass shell he had captured it in. Occasionally the sand would surge outward, as if trying to escape it’s enclosure. It was of no use, of course. Pitch had designed this cage specifically with the star dust in mind.

He trailed a black nailed finger over the glass casing, amused as the sand shrank away from his touch as if it had a mind of it’s own.

Pitch drew a lazy circle on the glass before letting his hand slip inside as if there was no obstacle at all. He pinched a small bit of the sand in between his finger and thumb and drew it away from the rest, pulling it out of the cage and into the dark room.

It was time he began his experiments. If everything went according to plan he would have a new toy to play with.

 

_******* _

 

Jack flew for a few minutes before finding a little rock outcropping to perch himself on, having made certain he was not in any way being followed.

He landed roughly, his hand still clutching his side and his breathing a little labored. He glanced around him in confusion. He hadn't thought he'd traveled very far, but it looked as if Wind had carried him a greater distance than he had noticed.

Lost was an understatement. He almost didn't know which way was up. The silvery tundra stretched for miles in every direction and met a soft gray sky that turned a light blue the higher up it stretched.

Jack was a little in awe. He'd never seen so much snow. Then again, it was early spring when he had woken up and the winter was slowly melting away in the area surrounding his lake.

This place didn't look like it had any plans on melting anytime soon and Jack felt a slow smile stretch across his face. It was so beautiful here, untouched by not only man, but animals as well. It was a wonderland of blissful sparkly snow.

Jack was in heaven.

But that didn't mean he knew where he was.

It was no matter, though, he would just have to explore. His side let out a token protest when he crouched to jump into the air to fly off. He groaned and bend in half instead, clutching his wound a little more tightly.

Something wet seeped through the wool of his shirt and he pulled his hand back in slight confusion.

Blood.

Jack blinked down at his stained fingers uncomprehending.

Oh.

Ow.

Okay, so the spear had clipped him better then he'd thought. There wasn't much he could do about it right now except put pressure on it, which he did on instinct alone, letting a bit of his magic coat the blood in a thin layer of ice and frost.

That taken care of he straightened out again, this time taking more care in the way he moved. “Alright Wind, let's explore a bit.” Wind excitedly shrieked and tugged on his cloak insistently. “Whoa! Whoa! Be careful Wind, that's painful.” He gasped, trying to suppress a yelp at the rough handling.

Wind deflated immediately, sifting through his hair apologetically. Jack smiled, “Now, gentle this time.” He guided, allowing the wind to curl around him and lift him off the ground.

They flew for what felt like hours before they found any sign of habitation. That sign came in the form of a single shaggy looking creature stomping through the snow.

Jack flew closer to get a better look, only to go careening away as the creature narrowed it’s eyes at him and swatted him. Jack landed in the snow a few yards away, gasping in great gulps of air as he fought the pain in his side and chest.

Ow.

Jack opened his eyes and glared at the retreating form. “That was uncalled for!” He shouted after it, “If you wanted me to leave you could have just said so.” He grumbled to himself as he levered himself out of the crater he’d made in the snow on his landing.

He stood staring in the direction the creature had gone, the wind tugging him in another direction. Jack swatted at the air, “No, wind, not now.” He said absently. The wind died down and simply waited for Jack to finish whatever he was thinking.

A smile slowly grew on his lips and he lept into the air, again forgetting about his injury and almost fell from the sky because of it. He barely managed to avoid crashing a second time, then set off after the hostile furry creature.

It was another hour before anything new happened. That new being a huge fortress rising up out of the bleak landscape.

Jack could only stand and gape at the towering structure. It was magnificent, and very colorful when compared to it’s setting. Jack’s ice blue eyes skimmed across the flying buttresses, up the spiraling towers and down the steep slopes of black tiled roofs. The building was decorated with large open windows that spilled warm yellow light onto the snowy ground below.

“Oh, wow.” Jack breathed, slowly creeping forwards to trail a hand lightly over a wall that looked to have been sculpted instead of simply built. The windows revealed wide open rooms that were so spacious that you could easily fit whole houses from Jack’s little town inside.

In those rooms was a bizarre tableau, more furry creatures bustled around inside the room. Grey, brown, and white beasts clustered around wooden work tables gabbering amongst themselves as they...built...toys?

Jack rubbed at his disbelieving eyes.

Nope...still there.

How strange. But even stranger than the large hairy beasts building childrens toys were the walking pointy hats with bells on them that were constantly tripping the much larger creatures as they scurried around carrying plates of cookies, glasses of milk, and small tools or other random little baubles. Little piles of the hats sat around the room at irregular intervals and....well...Jack was unsure exactly what they were doing, though it looked as if they were attempting to build toys as well. It was a valiant effort, if doomed to fail.

Jack wasn’t sure how long he stayed and watched the goings on, flitting from window to window in his curiosity. It was all very interesting, but Jack wasn’t a very patient young man, and soon he grew bored. He scurried up the side of the building until he was crouched on the roof, grinning into the cool wintery air.

“Alright wind, take me home!” He shouted before launching himself off the highest point on the fortress.

He would have to come back later and see if he could find a way inside. That would be fun.

_******* _

No! No no no no!

Pitch snarled as he flung the glass sphere containing the last few dregs of dream sand against a nearby wall. The glass shattered upon impact raining shimmering shards and glittery silver dust onto the cold stone floor.

Useless. The whole thing was pointless. He hadn’t been able to truly infuse the sand with fear or twist it to his liking. The best he was able to do was drain the sand of the magic the Sand Man had bled into it. Now it was just a pile of useless star dust cluttering up his floor.

He sneered, spinning around to stalk up the stairs fully intent on taking his bad mood out on the first available human.

Upon reaching the surface he paused to drink in the eerie night air. It was a moonless night and there was a slight fog rolling. It was a perfect setting for a Haunting.

Pitch grinned, a sharp malicious grin, and disappeared into the shadows. He emerged in the small town a few miles from his hide out, his appearance caused the black shapes to stretch and swell. The few straggling humans shuddered and eyed the darkness warily even as they sped up their pace and hurried to reach their homes.

Pitch drank in the heady cloying fear and drifted towards the nearest homestead. The windows were closed and the curtains drawn and the door was barred, but that didn’t matter. Pitch slipped inside as if he were no more then a ghost.

He trailed his fingernails over the wood in the hall, the scraping sound loud in the stillness of the sleeping house.

The shade paused at the door to the master bedroom, but no, children were much easier to toy with, and they tasted so much better.

He continued on his way down the hall to the smallest bedroom where a little girl lay sleeping.

Pitch’s work with the dream sand had been a colossal failure, but perhaps he hadn’t been looking at the problem from the right angle. He tilted his head as he watched the sleeping child, one finger placed thoughtfully on his chin. Maybe he needed to take the fear straight from the source and twist the dream itself.

A slow cruel smile spread across his pallid features and he stepped towards bed. Tendrils of darkness seeping out from him as he loomed over the innocent child dreaming peacefully on the bed.

 


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Nightmare is Born.

Jack Frost laughed gaily as he spun through the small throng of children throwing snowballs at each other. It was his favorite game, and he never wasted a moment in initiating a snowball fight among the village’s children. He was able to move much better now that his injuries had healed. It had been a long two weeks, but it was worth it to be able to play with the children again.

He nimbly jumped over a little boy who was targeting his crush and, chuckling to himself lept into a nearby tree to watch the chaos he had sown.

It was glorious. Children diving this way and that to avoid the cold projectiles, only to end up landing in piles of the stuff, sending up little puffs of snow upon impact. Jack’s eyes scanned the shrieking children before settling on one particular child sitting just outside of the ‘fun zone’.

Jack’s smile slipped off his face and he gently floated towards the little girl. She was a cute little thing with straight brown hair and a round little face that was a light pink due to the chill in the air.

“Hey, kiddo.” Jack greeted softly as he settled down in a crouch next to the child. “Why aren’t you out there having fun? This is the last chance before spring really sets in and the sun melts all the snow.” It had been an early spring this year and so when the unexpected snow storm had hit the children had been thrilled.

The little girl sniffled and Jack’s eyes widened, “Oh! No, no please don’t cry.” Jack said desperately, his hand’s reaching out for the girl on instinct.

“Penelope!” Someone shouted in the distance. “Penelope, it’s getting late, why don’t you come in dear?” The little girl rose to her feet, her shoulders passing right through Jack’s outstretched hands.

Jack snatched them back as if he’d been burned, holding them to his chest protectively, his eyes wide in surprised pain.

Oh.

How did he always forget about that?

The little girl, Penelope, started a slow meander back to her house. Jack wasn’t quick enough and the little girl walked right through him, sending another stab of pain through the eternal teen’s heart. Jack cast a quick look back at the play fight going on behind him, but he was no longer in the mood.

He wandered around the town for a while, aimlessly, before spying something...strange. Usually Jack didn’t stay in town after sundown so he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was normal or not. A thick stream of golden light floated down into the town, splitting into smaller strings and slipping inside the houses through windows or under doors.

Jack was curious by nature and even the wind’s insistent tugging couldn’t stop him from investigating. He floated down to the main stream and leaned close. From a distance he had thought it was some sort of light, but now he knew differently. Whatever it was was solid, or...solid to a point. It moved like water, but instead of spraying little droplets of golden water when it touched something it separated into small little particles.

Jack didn’t know what to think of this new development, but he wasn’t done with his investigation. Before he could think better of it, or before the wind could whisk him away, he touched it.

He dipped his pointer finger in the golden stream before jumping away as if it might bite him.

It didn’t.

What it did do was explode in a swirl of golden snowflakes before settling back into the main body of the golden substance.

Jack cocked his head to the side, a bemused smile curling his lips and he closed in again this time trailing his finger up the stream for a couple inches. The golden particles curled around his finger, soft and light, before again exploding in a flurry of snowflakes.

Jack let out a delighted laugh as he toyed with what he was beginning to realize was some strange magical sand. He followed the sand to one of the windows to see what was going on inside.

The sand slipped right through the glass as if it wasn’t even there and went straight to the little girl sleeping in the room. Jack smiled slightly as he recognized her from earlier, Penelope was her name. His smile was sad as he pushed the window open and slipped into the room. The he followed the stream of sand to the little girl where it swirled around her head in a little play of images. Two figures walked on a thin golden path, the little one swinging the arm of the older one happily. Both were laughing.

Jack’s smile warmed at the sight and he settled down on the side of the girl’s bed, entranced by the little golden show.

The sound of something scraping against the wall outside the room caused the boy to tense and raise his staff defensively. His head cocked to the side as he listened to whatever it was draw closer. Whatever it was had come from inside the house, the sound steadily drawing nearer.

Jack’s heart raced, and a curl of ice slipped down his spine. Something was wrong, he could feel it, even if he didn’t know what it was.

Jack glanced around the room frantically, searching for someplace to hide. The thought of fleeing crossed his mind briefly, but he banished it as quickly as it had come. He wouldn’t leave Penelope alone. He couldn’t leave her alone.

There wasn’t much time for him to find a decent hiding spot, and he contemplated slipping under the bed, but that seemed extremely uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get out again. The scraping was just outside the door when Jack made his choice, shooting up to the ceiling and lancing on one of the rafters there. He crouched low, one hand holding the rafter and one clutching his staff in his lap. It wasn’t even a moment later when the door to the room creaked open and a shadow slipped inside.

The figure was a tall dark man with skin paler than even Jack’s. He had black hair that was slicked back from his face and yet stood straight up creating an eerie silhouette. He wore a long black shapeless robe that seemed to blend in with the shadows on the floor. He didn’t walk so much as glide into the room, only to stop on the threshold and stare at Penelope.

Jack felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and if he had been a cat he would have been hissing...he might anyway on principle alone. Everything in him screamed at him to get away from this person.

But he couldn’t leave. Not with Penelope laying there vulnerable.

Jack steeled himself, his grip on his staff tightening as he watched the man contemplate the girl sleeping just a few feet away. Jack’s breath caught in his throat when a slow, cruel smile split the man’s long gaunt face in half, revealing sharp razor like teeth. “Oh, this is so sweet. You always were my favorite.” The man said, his voice singing with a light accent; it was smooth as silk and sharp as a knife. He traced one long shadow tipped finger down the girl’s cheek, smirking as her face scrunched up unconsciously at the touch and she turned her head away. He then looked at the swirling picture of golden sand above her head and the smile he now displayed could have been dipped in poison. “And what is this? Oh, you poor little girl, still dreaming of your beloved brother.” The man stood watching the dream for a few moments before looking back at the sleeping child and tutting.

“This won’t do, little Penelope. He’s dead. He is not coming back.” As he said this he touched the girl’s forehead, she winced again as he drew his finger back, a small shadow clinging to his finger. He then touched that shadow to the dream and watched as the golden sand slowly bled to black. His smile was smug as he scooped up a sample of the now black sand and placed it inside a glass globe and slipped it inside his shadowy robe.

He paused to watch the black dream, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. He bent down over the girl and whispered in her ear, just loud enough for Jack, hiding just above his head, to hear. “There are nothing but Nightmares left girl. You’re brother cannot save you now.”

Then he was gone, leaving nothing but shifting shadows in his wake.

Jack didn’t move for a long moment, before slowly creeping out of his hiding space. The once beautiful dream was now black and rotten, the ground around them grew slick like ice sending the little girl careening away from her brother. The ground under the larger figure seemed to open up and shadowy hands reached up and dragged him down.

Jack felt a shiver go down his spine as he watched the little girl twist and turn as her nightmare took hold. Her face wet with silent tears. His feet felt frozen to the floor and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Penelope.

The frost sprite had to physically tear himself away, fleeing out the window like the shadows would swallow him too.

He searched the surrounding town frantically for the stream of golden dream sand, but it was gone.

Jack rushed from the town, racing across the land, moving from town to town in search of the golden glow.

He found the elusive river of sand three towns away, bringing sweet dreams to the occupants there. Jack dove at the source of sand and grabbed a handful, before dashing away.

The sand burst into a flurry of snowflakes again, slipping from the boy’s grasp and slinking back towards the main stream.

Jack spun around, his eyes wide as he stared at the sand. “No!” He exclaimed, diving back at the river and dipping his hands into it only to pull out nothing more then flurries of golden snowflakes. “No, please.” He begged, “You don’t understand.”

But the sand didn’t listen and Jack sank to the ground in despair, staring at the golden streams of sand slipping into the different homes.

It wasn’t fair. He just had to help Penelope, he had to. But he didn’t know how. Jack curled up on the ground and buried his face in his hands. What was he supposed to do now?

After a few agonizing moments of self-loathing Jack felt something nudge his arm. He shrugged his shoulder, hoping it would leave him alone. A moment later the nudge came again, more insistent this time and Jack slowly raised his face; only the boy’s bright blue eyes, shining with tears of frustration clinging to his lashes, peaking out over his folded arms to look at the interloper.

A little golden fox danced in the air in front of him, bounding around energetically as it tried to get his attention.

Jack’s brow furrowed in confusion as he lifted his head up, his arms falling to his sides limply. The little dream creature yipped soundlessly and darted forward to tug on his cloak playfully.

Jack blinked at the little fox for a long moment before slowly reaching out towards it. The little creature pounced on his hand, dissolving into a flurry of snowflakes then merging back into the little golden kit.

Jack felt a small wavery smile touch his lips at the dream’s antics. “Hi.” He said softly, as if afraid to scare it away. The little fox yipped silently again and bounced around in a little circle in front of the icy boy, “Will you...will you help me?” Jack breathed, hope blooming in his chest like a poinsettia, beautiful and bright.

The little dream fox chittered back at him, no sound leaving it’s muzzle but getting it’s point across all the same as it danced around Jack happily. Jack lept to his feet, relief flooding through him like frost over his lake.

“Come on, we need to hurry.” The boy sang as he dashed away, the wind lifting him effortlessly and whisking him back towards his home town, the little golden fox racing ahead of him only to pause for a moment to look back at Jack as if checking that he was, indeed following.

Jack laughed freely, diving after the little creature, his heart once again free of the heavy burden of guilt that had gripped him in his moment of helplessness.

Jack slowed down when they reached the town, herding the little dream towards Penelope’s house. The fox paused at the window, looking at the little girl restlessly tossing in the bed. It jumped at the window, moving through the glass as if it wasn’t even there.

Jack watched from outside the room as the dream darted towards the girl’s nightmare. They collided with a splash of black and gold and Jack watched as they seemed to fight. The gold trying to gain control of the dream, but slowly being consumed by the black nightmare.

Jack’s eyes filled with dread as he watched the dream loosing it’s beautiful shimmer and dull into black.

No! This couldn’t be happening. This was supposed to work. The gold sand was supposed to fix this. Why wasn’t it working?

Jack pushed the window open and slipped inside, landing by the bed and watching anxiously as the sand fought for control of the girl’s dream. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Jack had been so sure this was the answer.

The boy’s eyes darted frantically over the dream/nightmare, slipping over the child sleeping in the bed, and around the room in a frantic search for something that could help.

Nothing jumped out at him, but he knew he had to do something. His hands clenched by his side, his right hand clamping down on the staff that was never far from him sending sparks of bright blue magic from the crook.

Jack’s eyes snapped to the burst of his magic, widening at the strange color. What was that? He didn’t have time to investigate whatever it was his magic was doing because at that moment the nightmare sand circled the little bit of dream sand left and rose on all sides, getting ready for it’s last attack.

Jack acted on pure instinct. He didn’t even have time to think as he pushed his staff forward and sent a surge of magic into the little bit of golden sand left. Bright blue splashed into gold, erupting in an explosion of bright spring green. The beautiful green sand collided with the rotten black and seemed to swallow it until all that was left was the brilliant green dream that shifted into a little fox that yipped happily at Jack.

Jack gasped a startled laugh, reaching out a slightly trembling hand to touch the now green little dream fox. “That was...amazing.” Jack told it, eyes sparkling with joy as the little fox jumped around his hand. It barked soundlessly, standing on Jack’s shoulder and a moment later a wisp of golden sand floated into the room and began swirling around the little girl’s head. The two figures from before emerged and the taller of the two knelt and enfolded the smaller in a warm embrace.

Jack smiled at the dream, his heart near to bursting at the sight. A nudge at his cheek brought him out of his thoughts and he raised a hand to brush lightly over the sand foxes bright green fur. They watched the dream for a few moments before turning and disappearing out the window.

Jack flew to the roof and sat, the little fox leaping off his shoulder onto his lap where it curled up and butted it’s head against his hand. Jack automatically started to pet it’s strangely silky fur, little wisps of green sand curling around his fingers.

“We’ll have to keep watch, we can’t let that...thing...attack the children again.” He said, mostly to himself. Jack looked down at the sand creature curled up in his lap and cocked his head to the side as he watched it. It really was adorable, the bright green sand was tipped with pearly white on it’s feet and the tip of it’s tail. His new friend was a little smaller then the sleek red fox he’d seen hunting earlier that week, but other than that and it’s unique coloring it looked exactly like it. He scrittched it behind the ears and smiled as it looked up at him.

Jack blinked in surprise when he saw it’s eyes, before a bemused smile curled his lips. The fox had one golden eye, and one ice blue eye. “Oh, that’s adorable.” He said, a small laugh escaping his lips as he watched the small fox push into his hand and close it’s mismatched eyes.

Jack looked back up, watching as the sky lightened and dawn crept over the forest.

 

_******* _

While Jack was sitting on a rooftop enjoying his success with his new familiar Pitch had retreated to his lair to get to work on the next part of his plan.

Nightmare sand was all well and good and he had a few ideas of what he could use it for, but it wasn’t strong enough, as it was, for the larger goals he had in mind.

He settled down on his throne, a looming structure made of gleaming black glass that rose in dangerously sharp shards above Pitch’s head. The nightmare king reached into his robes and pulled out the small glass sphere he had placed his black sand inside. He rolled it over the back of his fingers thoughtfully, spinning it around to hold on the tips of three of his fingers.

It sat, balanced precariously on the tips of his long spidery fingers before he dropped it into his palm and squeezed. The crystal casing shattered, the shards clattering off the throne to scatter over the floor.

The grains of black sand he had collected swirled around his hand, twining between his fingers like a particularly affectionate cat.

Pitch waved his hand, summoning the sand back to his palm where it hovered like the plague. Pitch smiled as he poured every malicious thought and feeling into the inky remains of the dream sand.

Slowly a shape could be made out in the swirling storm of ink. A small gleaming ebony horse stood majestically in the center of the Nightmare King’s palm.

Pitch leaned back in his throne as the small black creature pranced around the room, exploring it’s new territory. “You can explore later, when the sun drives you back. For now, you need to go cultivate more nightmares for me.” When the little creature didn’t move, just stood there looking at him Pitch snarled at her, “Go!”

The little mare retreated quickly, cowering in fright, before dissolving in a shower of black dust that disappeared into the shadows to reappear in the nearby town.

Nickering to herself in irritation the little mare trotted towards the closest house where she could sense a sleeping child. She walked right through the wall as if it wasn’t even there and looked around the room unimpressed. The child, she discovered, was laying on a ragged looking mattress set a couple inches off the floor and was covered from head to toe in a thick woolen blanket. A mass of swirling golden sand hovered over the little blond head.

The little nightmare paced for a moment, looking for the perfect spot, then she dove, her black pelt gleaming wetly in the moonlight.

Black seeped into the gold, moving outward from the center of the dream like a disease. The nightmare pranced proudly off to the side then stood to watch her handiwork, a smug tilt to her tiny head.

The golden dream bubbled black tar and figure pushed itself from the seething mass of sand. The new nightmare shook, flinging pebbles of black stardust across the room. The new nightmare tossed her mane arrogantly as she trotted to her sister’s side. They shared a meaningful look before splitting ways and heading off in different directions.

_******* _

Jack’s peaceful sunrise was interrupted when the little fox in his lap stiffened, it’s whole body tensing as it perked it’s head up. Jack glanced down at the little guy in concern before following where it’s eyes were fixed.

The shadows in the town below were moving. Jack scrambled to his feet, creeping to the edge of the roof to get a better look. His eyes narrowed on the shifting darkness stretching across the ground. He had seen something similar earlier that night when that man had snuck into Penelope’s room and twisted her dreams.

Just the thought of that man made Jack’s blood boil. He wouldn’t let that monster anywhere near Penelope. He’d protect her, no matter what.

A shape emerged from the shadows and at first Jack thought he might be seeing things. But no, that was definitely a tiny horse trotting from one shadow to the next as it made it’s way towards the next house.

Jack’s snarl was mirrored by the little green fox that crouched beside him, watching the little pony with a predators gaze. As one, Jack and the little fox moved. Jack lifted his staff and shot a ball of ice at the nightmare and at the same time the fox pounced.

The ice burst as it crashed into the ground right in front of the little black horse, frost spreading on the ground in every direction. The nightmare reared back, startled, before being tackled by the green fox.

The two creatures exploded in a shower of black and emerald sand before reforming a couple feet away from each other. The nightmare pawed the ground, her nostrils flaring. The fox yipped soundlessly before flying forward again. The nightmare dodged to the side, kicking it’s back legs at its opponent. The little fox dissolved into emerald dust around the ebony hoof. When it reappeared moments later it had it’s teeth sunk into the horses tiny ankle.

Jack watched with narrowed eyes as two more nightmares emerged from the shadows of a house across from the fight. They took one look at the fox and started towards him at a gallop.

“Oh no you don’t.” Jack hissed, flinging more icy projectiles at the little black dreams. One of the nightmares dodged, the other collided with the frost magic and froze solid, mid leap. The little iced over creature careened into the side of a building and shattered, raining little needles of ice into the air. Jack waved his staff again, summoning the wind, which swept the ice shards towards the second nightmare.

Black sand exploded around the ice shards, falling into the shadows and disappearing. The nightmare that had been fighting the fox looked up at Jack on the roof, then sunk into the shadows below her, disappearing into the night.

Jack jumped down, landing next to the dream fox. The little green creature disappeared in a puff of sand and reappeared on Jack’s shoulder. “What do you think those were?” Jack asked rhetorically as he squinted into the shadows.

The fox didn’t answer, just curled around the boy’s neck possessively, and nuzzled against his neck. Jack smiled softly before turning his attention to the houses the nightmares had slinked out of. He had a bad feeling about this.

He flew to the nearest house and peaked into the window he’d seen the creatures emerge from. He had to close his eyes against the sight, as he felt something clench in his chest.

Another nudge from his emerald dream gave him the strength he needed. Opening his eyes, Jack pushed the window open and slipped inside. The boy sleeping on the bed couldn’t be older then twelve. His face was scrunched up in fear, his mouth twisted in a thin, harsh line. The blanket that had been tucked sweetly around him was now a tight cruel binding. And, worst of all, above his head where a gleaming golden dream should have been there was only a pool of black.

Jack clenched his teeth and strode forward determinedly. On his shoulder the little fox yipped, calling more dream sand.

Jack watched as the little wisp of golden sand pierced the center of the black hole that should have been a dream. As Jack had expected the gold sand fought valiantly but it was no match for the nightmare sand and was soon being in danger of being swallowed. Jack raised a hand, summoning a wisp of his own magic, which swirled around his fingers in the shape of a bright blue snowflake. With a flick of his wrist he shot the snowflake at the battling sand.

The snowflake melted into the sand, turning the gold into a light green. It wasn’t as strong as Jack’s dream fox but it was just enough to overpower the nightmare and turn it back into a dream.

Satisfied, Jack and his little familiar headed to the next house.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was it? What did you think of the little dream fox? I think he's downright adorable, but I'm afraid I don't have a name picked out, so if you have any idea's let me know.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy has noticed something fishy and recruits some help to go investigate, what they find is something neither of them know what to do with. Jack tries to make a new friend, and Pitch takes his plots to a whole new level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took longer than anticipated to write, and for that I apologize. I do like the way it turned out, and it is a lot longer thank any of the other chapters so I hope that makes it up to you at least a little.  
> Enjoy!

_**Sandy** _

The night sky was a warm black shall that draped across the world, the only light spilling into the sleeping city originated from the brightly glowing moon and pinprick stars that were sprinkled across the heavens.

Sandy paid his gossiping fellows no mind, completely focused on his task of directing dreams to his mortal charges. The small golden man sat on his shimmering cloud of stardust, waving his arms in the air like an orchestra conductor.

Thick ropes of dream sand glided through the dark streets of London, branching off into small streams that snuck in windows and under doors to reach their destined humans.

It was clear by the wide smile on the sandman's face that he really loved his work, easily getting lost in the joy of bringing happiness to other people. He took great care in directing the correct dreams to the correct people and it wasn't uncommon for him to start laughing silently at some of the more ridiculous dreams.

His merrymaking was cut short when a strange tug on his sand caught his attention, flipping the happy smile on his face into a worried frown. He turned his attention to the stream of sand the anomaly had come from.

A long moment passed where nothing unusual took place and Sandy shrugged and turned back to his work when it happened again.

Sandy's head snapped around, his eyes no longer half lidded and sleepy, but sharp and alert. A warrior looking for trouble.

The strange behavior of his sand had been happening more and more often over the last week, and it was really starting to concern him.

Standing, Sandy directed his cloud down to get a closer look. Nothing appeared to be wrong, the river was running strong and the small streams of sand breaking off from it were all heading towards where their designated human's lay sleeping.

The tug came again and now Sandy could see it, a thin whip-like strand of sand had broken away from the rest. It wasn't very strong, and trembled as it stretched. Sandy watched with wide eyes as more and more sand was pulled from the main source, almost bleeding into the rogue stream.

Not at all liking the look of things, Sandy closed his hands around the largest part of the stream, the sand disconnecting from the river at his touch. The sand pulsed in his hands angrily for a moment before going completely slack, the rope falling to the ground as if all the magic had been sucked out of it.

Sandy almost dropped the end of the rope in shock before it came to life snapping taught and yanking - hard - as if someone was standing on the other end of the rope and pulling.

Sandy gasped silently as he toppled forward off his cloud, he landed on the ground hard, an explosion of golden sleep dust erupting around him. The small man lay where he landed for a few long seconds, dazed and confused.

Another tug on his sand brought him back to himself; he was on his feet in a heartbeat, a fierce scowl on his face as he approached the stream of sand that seemed to be laughing at him. The star hesitated before gripping the sand again and giving it a tentative tug. The sand rope seemed to thrum angrily in his hands and if he had been human his hands would have gone completely numb from the sensation, but it just made Sandy narrow his eyes and tighten his grip.

The rope seemed to take that as a challenge and gave another harsh yank and, to the sandman's complete surprise, snapped in two.

The sudden reliance of tension sent the fallen star careening backwards, the rope slingshotting back at him. Sandy's eyes popped in alarm for a split second before he dropped to the ground, laying as flat as his rotund form could manage.

Above him he could hear the hiss as the sand whip passed directly through where he had been standing. The sand slammed into a wall and exploded in another burst of glittery golden dust. Sandy rolled over and sat up, staring at the rain of stardust in bafflement.

Slowly climbing to his feet, Sandy marched over to the pile of dream sand, a determined look on his face. He bent over and dipped one finger in the pile of dead stardust. His frown returned, his golden eyebrows drawing together. Concerned by what he found he pushed a bit of magic back into the pile and pulled his finger back into the air. A thin string of sand followed the motion and he deftly coiled the rope, draping it over one short arm as he held the end up to his face for a closer look.

It was not good.

The tip had somehow turned into a gleaming black glass. Sandy had never seen anything like it before, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

He needed help.

_**Jack Frost** _

Jack danced backwards, out of reach of grasping claws and snapping fangs. He swung his staff forward, the crook slamming into the side of the attacker's face, sending the black creature reeling sideways. The fiend, a shadowy figure in the shape of a large wolf, shook off the hit and turned glowing yellow eyes back on the boy, who grit his teeth and brandished his staff defensively before him.

The massive black wolf snarled, a low rumbling sound that Jack would swear to the day he died shook the ground. The wolf's maw stretched wide in a parody of a grin that revealed gleaming ebony fangs.

Jack cursed, diving out of the way as the creature lunged at him, before he rolled back to his feet shooting shards of ice at the hounds feet.

The shadow creature danced around the bursts of blue magic, the massive paws carrying the creature over the ground in giant leaping steps.

Laughing Jack lept nimbly out of the way, flipping through the air and letting the wind whisk him away from the human's houses.

A few feet from where Jack was prancing about with the wolf a small green fox flitted in and out of windows. Every once in a while it would emerge in a flurry of green and black sand. The fox tried it's hardest but the black sand would slip into the shadows, which were everywhere this late at night, and reappear a short distance away in the form of little black horses-nightmares-before tossing their manes and galloping away.

It was a loosing battle, but Jack didn't have time to even care about that. He fought with as much ferocious determination as his fox. Around them the small black creatures slipped into the shadows and disappeared from view, sped by the encroaching morning sunlight.

The white glow of the moon slipped down past the tree line and the wolf made one last ditch effort to get the upper hand on the boy. While Jack was distracted by the little nightmares rushing around his feet the wolf pounced, bearing the winter spirit to the ground. Jack yelped as he went down, just managing to get his staff up in time to block the wolf's attempt to bite his face off. Jack squirmed and kicked, trying to shove the snarling wolf off him while keeping his face out of range of those snapping jaws, unable to take his wide terrified eyes off the gleaming black fangs.

The massive paws held the boy down with ease, the wolf ignored the boy's struggling as if he were nothing more then a moth uselessly flapping his wings in an attempt to get away.

Grinning the wolf decided on a different tactic.

Jack screamed, his unheard voice swallowed up by the forest as the wolf flexed his paws and dug his claws into the boy's chest, tearing through his shirt and flesh like silk.

The fox snarled, incensed, and launched himself on the shadow wolf's back, sinking both claws and teeth into the scruff of the larger animal's neck.

The wolf growled in anger at the sudden attack, automatically digging his claws even deeper into the boy laying helpless under him.

Jack's scream broke off in a gasp as a single beam of sunlight pierced through the canopy of trees, illuminating the wolf's inky fur.

The wolf paused it's assault to look up; he snarled in frustration, easily shaking the fox from it's back. The movement drove the wolfs claws deeper into Jacks chest, and sent the little fox flying across the clearing to slam into a horribly placed tree.

The wolf snapped at Jack one last time, a warning, before jumping away and dashing into the woods.

Jack dragged himself to the foxes side, panting with the effort, and pulled the little creature into his arms. He took a moment to curl up against the tree before closing his eyes in an effort to block out the pain.

He was just slipping into a light sleep when something nudged against his cheek. Jack pried one eye open to look. It was the fox, he was watching Jack with a worried look in his mismatched eyes.

Jack tried to smile but it was strained, and reached up one hand to card through the sand fox's silky fur. "They're getting stronger." He remarked offhand, his thoughts turning to his tussle with the giant shadow wolf. "And bigger." He added with a frown, "That last one wasn't one of the nightmares, it was different." The hand not petting the fox reached up to touch his chest lightly. His fingers brushed over one of the wounds with a feather light touch. He cringed.

Yeah. That hurt.

When he lifted his hand his eyes caught on something glinting darkly in the sunlight. His fingers were coated in a royal blue liquid that slid down his fingers to paint his pale hand.

His breath caught in his throat. Blood.

Jack's eyes automatically lowered to his chest, where his torn flesh was gleaming wetly in the sunlight. He was bleeding. Again.

Bright blue eyes glanced back up at the worried dream creature sitting on his lap, "Aw, don't worry, Fyren." He soothed, "This is nothing a little bit of frost can't fix."

The fox looked skeptical so Jack grinned at him as he focused his magic into his hands. It was a strange sensation, Jack decided quickly. His magic wasn't usually something he had to concentrate on-it was instinct that directed him and the staff that guided and acted as a conduit. To feel the icy slip of his magic course through his veins and pool in the tips of his fingers was almost uncomfortable.

He ignored it and continued to channel his powers into his hands until his fingers glittered in the morning sunlight like a billion tiny stars clung to his flesh.

Jack then trailed his fingers over the torn skin, layering the wounds in a thin sheet of frost. Satisfied by the results he smiled his usual cocky grin at his companion before he leaned back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes tiredly.

It had been a long night and an even longer week; all Jack wanted to do now was sleep. The warm weight of the spring sun was a welcome relaxant and Jack took a few moments to simply bask in the warmth that was so familiar, like a pleasant dream you lost upon waking.

A tickle traveled down Jack's ribs causing him to squirm and reach up a lazy hand to brush the irritant away. His fingers skidded over his bare flesh, collecting a droplet of liquid that had no business dancing down his newly 'bandaged' chest.

Jack hesitated to open his eyes, not wanting to see his blue tipped fingers again. Had he been hurt worse than he thought? Was a little bit of frost not enough to stop the bleeding? Could he possibly have missed one of the wounds?

The frost spirit's mind was a whirl of worrying thoughts and he forced himself to peak one eye open and check…just to be sure.

Relief washed over him like a torrent of rain.

Nothing. No fingers stained a grotesque blue. His fingers were simply wet, like he'd dipped them in the thawing lake.

Jack's relief got caught in his throat and his brain stuttered to a stop on that single thought: Thawing. Melting.

He was melting!

Why hadn't he thought of this before? Everything about winter was disappearing. The snow making way for green grass, the lake melting into pleasantly cool water the towns children excitedly chattered about, saying it would be wonderful to swim in when the weather got hot.(though Jack wasn't sure what swimming even was). His frost wasn't sticking to the trees, and the frozen ground was becoming soft and, in some cases, muddy.

Jack was a part of winter, therefore it made sense that he too would fade in the light of the coming warm season.

Panicking, Jack bolted upright, momentarily forgetting about his wounded chest, the harsh movement causing the cuts to scream in protest.

Gasping in sudden pain Jack groped at his chest, feeling even more slick wetness there. Dread flooded him, weighing heavily in his limbs. It was happening faster then he thought. If he was melting this fast he wouldn't even have time to get somewhere colder to wait out the warm months. Frightened tears pricked his eyes and Jack, angry at himself, swiped his hand across his face.

A flash of blue caught his eye, and the cool wet feeling on his fingers caused Jack to pause in confusion. He pulled his hand away from his face and stared at the glistening blue liquid once again staining his fingers.

Not quite sure what he was seeing Jack glanced down at his chest and instead of seeing a thin sheet of frost keeping his wounds closed there was a gleaming trail of blue tinted water traveling down his sides.

He wasn't melting.

Oh, thank the moon, he wasn't actually melting.

Collapsing back on the tree he had been leaning against he let the relief catch up to him, laughing a little at the sheer ridiculousness of his freak-out session.

He spent a few moments reapplying the layer of ice, giggling a little to himself ever so often before leaning back against his tree and turning his attention back to his worried companion.

"See," He said as he grinned at Fyren lopsidedly. "All better. Give it a couple hours and I'll be…good…as…new?" Jack's words grew more hesitant the longer he spoke, especially when he felt the tell-tell tickle trickle down his ribs.

Both Jack and Fyren looked down, eyes transfixed on Jack's thin torso where gleaming beads of dew could be seen clinging to the snowy flesh. The sturdy layer of icy magic Jack had wrapped around himself as a bandage was severely depleted and what remained seemed to glare up at Jack in a wet accusation.

Eyes wide, Jack hastily slapped another layer -or three- of frost on the melting remains of his dressing only to watch in dismay as that too faded away to be replaced by beads of cool water.

Swallowing nervously Jack shared a quick glance with the fox, his constantly glowing hand clutching his wounded chest as if afraid he might fall apart any second. "I-it's not working." He admitted shakily, "Why isn't it working?" Jack's voice had risen a few octaves as the panic started to descend again, "It worked before. I know it. I-"

Jack snapped his mouth shut, his teeth clacking together loudly in the silent morning air. "I'm so stupid." He hissed at himself as he struggled to his feet. Fyren yipped soundlessly at him, obviously still worried. Jack smiled at him, a confident smile full of teeth, "Last time I was hurt," He explained as he leaned against the tree for a moment as he gathered his strength, "I was someplace much colder than here, somewhere even the sun couldn't melt all the snow." The little fox eyed him dubiously, his one gold eye narrowing in a half frown. The look, so strange on the little sand creature, forced a laugh from Jack, it was so unexpected. "Don't worry, I'll be right back. You won't even notice I'm gone." He promised, scratching between the foxes large ears.

Without giving Fyren a chance to reply Jack caught a quick ride with the North Wind and vanished in a whirl of green leaves, flower petals, and snowflakes.

Fyren huffed in irritation and plopped down on the ground to wait out the rest of the day in a lazy nap, the movement sent a cloud of green sand into the air around him which in turn sprinkled over him in a shower of golden sparkles.

The biter cold of the snowy wasteland was a welcome change to the injured frost spirit, who took a moment to flop onto the nearest mound of fluffy white powder and simply savor the chill that seeped into him.

He lay there for a few moments, ignoring the bright blue stain that was slowly spreading through the pure element he was laying on. While he enjoyed his brief respite he knew this wasn't a very ideal spot to 'lick his wounds' as he had heard a huntsman from the village say. He wasn't too worried about the local wildlife, but if something like those ice-goblin things were lurking somewhere nearby he would be a sitting duck (again something he'd heard the huntsman muttering about).

After the novelty of laying in the ocean of snow had warn off and his injuries were starting to ache something fierce Jack climbed to his feet and set off once again, this time with a very specific destination in mind. It required a bit of investigative work but Jack was able to locate the fortress he remembered being tucked away in the endless fields of white.

The boy flew to the topmost tier and settled down to rest, following close on his heels (and completely unbeknownst to him) a small blizzard swept over the landscape, curling around him like a protective shield.

Jack, of course, paid the weather no mind, it wasn't like the cold affected him and he was a bit busy reapplying the ice-bandages to his wounds, the sheath of ice forming around him like luminescent armor.

Long minutes passed while Jack waited with bated breath for the ice to melt; nothing happened. There was no tell-tell tickle down his sides, no droplets of water gleaming in the sunlight like little diamonds.

Nothing.

With an elated "Whoop!" Jack leapt into the air, twisting himself upside down in an acrobatic backwards flip to show just how exuberant he was feeling, even if there was no one around to admire the move.

He landed lightly back on the spire and finally took a look at his surroundings.

White.

Everywhere.

Everything was covered in a thick coat of winter white and not in the usual 'frozen tundra' sort of way either. Jack cringed, how had he not even noticed his powers acting up? The naturally snowy climate and the wild wind added to his temperamental magic and Jack may have accidentally let loose a mild blizzard.

"Heh…oops." He muttered to himself chagrined, ducking his head in an unconscious display of self-consciousness.

Critical blue eyes surveyed the storm thoughtfully before Jack decided to just let the storm run it's course. It was only a mild blizzard and it wouldn't hurt anything this far north.

That settled Jack figured it was about time he tried getting inside this isolated kingdom. Jumping off the side of the building Jack dove straight down, bright blue eyes scanning the walls for doors or windows someone might have left open.

Jack was quick to discover that there were plenty of windows and a good number of doors leading out onto large sweeping balconies but not one of them were left cracked open for fresh air much less gaping wide open.

Instead of discouraging Jack from breaking into the fortress it just make him that much more determined to find a way inside.

Obviously today wouldn't be that day, but that didn't stop him from getting a bit of spying in. He landed on one of those balconies he'd spotted walking on the railing for a few feet before growing bored and jumping down to begin his investigation.

The wind whistled in his ear as Jack crept up to the wide full length windows, not even bothering with the doors instinctively knowing they would be locked tight. Behind the frosted glass Jack was able to make out a deep room filled with dozens of those strange furry creatures he had encountered on his last visit. They were crowded around a huge blue and green circular object that seemed to be the focal point of the room.

Off to one side a door slammed open and two more of the creatures bustled in. Jack recognized one of them as the very same creature he'd followed that first time, the one who had so kindly told him to bugger off…well not in so many words, but the jyst was clear.

The creature that had entered with him was obviously some sort of royalty. He wore a long red robe over a loose black outfit. His back was to Jack but the boy could still clearly make out the creatures snow white fur flowing over the collar of the robes.

The King strode briskly passed the gathering and Jack was only mildly surprised when they parted for him.

While the throng gave the King their full attention the first creature remained frozen to the place he'd stopped, his head cocked to one side as if he were listening to something Jack couldn't hear beyond the whistling of the wind behind him.

The creature snapped its head toward the balcony, a stormy expression on his furry face and Jack jumped, startled by the sudden attention. He couldn't help but get excited about it, it wasn't very often someone other than the nightmares saw him, and when they did it was usually a painful experience.

Jack recovered from his surprise quickly and grinned back at him, wiggling his fingers in a cheeky wave. The creature, Jack still wasn't sure what it was called, huffed in obvious irritation and stomped over to the window Jack was looking through.

Jack's heart hammered in his chest, his eyes widening and he thought that maybe, just maybe the furry man would open the door and-

The fantasy crashed down around him when the creature stopped on the other side of the glass to glare at Jack before it reached up to pull a large green curtain down to block out the view.

Jack's heart plummeted and his breath caught in his throat, disappointment swamping him and sending him reeling.

Upset, but not willing to dwell on it, Jack dove off the balcony and headed back to home. It wouldn't take much longer before he was healed and he suddenly wanted to see Fyren again.

_**Aster** _

Sunlight streamed through the treetops to dapple the grass covered ground. A gentle little brook danced it's way through the small clearing, giggling as it meandered through the trees.

A large form stood just out of the sunlight, surveying the area with sharp green eyes. Aster, the tall figure, would have no problem navigating the stream to the other side. He was not a small Pooka after all, towering over many of the men and women of this small world he had taken to guarding, but it would prove a problem when trying to bring his googies to the ankle-biters living in the town on the other side of the woods.

A quick scan of the region revealed what Aster believed to be a good solution to his problem. A line of sun warmed stones trailed through the water at one of the shallowest parts of the stream. It would be the perfect way to get all his googies to the other side without loosing any or washing off any of the bright paint.

Easter was only two weeks away and Aster was taking a bit of time to scope out potential hiding places and to note changes in the environment that might be problematic, either to his googies or the ankle-biters. He had made it a habit to stick close to human settlements for that very reason. He did not want to encourage curious children to stray into dangerous territory or get lost while looking for his googies.

He had just crested a hill and was making mental notes about the landscape, where would be the best places to hide the googies, when something wrapped around his wrist.

There was a drawn out moment while Aster blinked in confusion before he was being yanked backwards. He couldn't have stopped the surprised honk from escaping if he'd tried as he was slammed into the ground and dragged backwards through the bright green grass. He slid to a stop at the feet of a short golden man who smiled down at him, waving his fingers in a cheeky little wave.

Aster glowered up at him, only half in irritation, "Now why'd you go an do that for, ya nong?" He griped as he hopped back to his feet, shaking his arm free of the sand-whip his friend had snagged him with.

Sandy shrugged, a wide smile on his face to show Aster he meant no harm, like Aster wasn't already perfectly aware of that fact. He rolled his eyes in exasperation but when Sandy started a little parade of charades above his head he gave him his full attention, otherwise he'd likely miss something important. And that almost always ended up in embarrassing situations for Aster.

The sand figures sped by faster and faster until Aster had to shake his head to get rid of the motion blurred across his vision. "Whoa, whoa. Slow down a bit there, mate." Sandy's images froze long enough for Aster to sort out everything the smaller man had said, "What do you mean yer sand attacked you?" The Pooka asked, baffled. He settled his long muscular body into a comfortable crouch and scratched at his scruff with a back paw absently, "Is yer magic on the fritz, or somethin'?"

The sand images that hung suspended above the sandman's head dropped away, disappearing in a swirl of golden dust. Sandy shook his head vigorously before launching into another lengthy explanation spelled out in painfully quick flashes above his spiky head.

Aster sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. This behavior was very out of character for the easy-going guardian and Aster just knew he would be spending very valuable time trying to find out just what was causing Sandy's grip on his magic to fail. He didn't want to admit it, but the sandman's actions were worrying. Aster hadn't seen him this wound up since their last confrontation with Pitch.

It was this thought that caused Aster's hackles to rise and for him to automatically reach for a weapon, his fingers brushing against the cool familiar wood of a boomerang.

Sandy had stopped talking and was looking at him with a knowing look in his eyes that grated on Asters nerves. He forced himself to calm down long enough to ask the one thought plaguing him most. "You don't think Pitch is behind this, do you?" He asked worriedly

Sandy answered in a flurry of golden images that slowed to a trickle. Sandy hesitated before sighing gustily as he nodded his head, looking resigned.

Aster's fists clenched and he swore loudly before looking down at his friend, "A'right. We'll go check this out then take our findings to North." He was more then willing to delay that trip as long as possible…he hated the biting cold of North's base.

Sandy nodded solemnly back at him, cracking his whip on the ground next to him. Aster grinned grimly at that, "Yeah mate. We'll send Pitch back where he belongs."

Aster's ears twitched as he straightened up, "Let's get this over with. After you." He said, gesturing grandly with one wide sweep of his long arm.

Sandy saluted him teasingly before shooting off, a comet tail of golden sand following behind. Aster cast one last look at the tranquil scenery before racing after the star, a dread weight where his hearts beat.

The two guardians traveled for hours, Sandy following…well, Aster wasn't exactly sure what he was following but he assumed it had something to do with his quirky magic. Aster wasn't to clear on exactly what the problem was, if it was just acting up or if someone was actively tampering with the dream sand. Either probability was worrisome.

Aster couldn't really blame Sandy for his abrupt tense attitude either, he knew that if someone was messing with his eggs he'd be pissed.

The landscape became a blur of colors as Aster's leaping lopes ate up the ground. He skidded to a stop beside Sandy, his sharp eyes scanning the immediate vicinity and his ears twitching about, listening for even the faintest hints of danger.

The night found them in a sleepy little town in what the humans were currently referring to as the 'New World'. A healthy river of bright dream sand was slowly coursing through the streets, the imaginative dreams of the slumbering humans shining through the windows.

Aster relaxed minutely when nothing jumped out at them and glanced down at the Sandman, who was anxiously bouncing from one foot to another. "Are ya sure something's wrong? I don't see anything that could be causing problems, mate." He admitted, irritation creeping into his voice. As much as he liked helping out his fellow guardians in their time of need Aster wasn't exactly the most patient of pooka's on the best of days and with Easter just around the corner…

Sandy shot him a look, halfway between disappointed and patronizing causing Aster's ears to arch back defensively. Sandy shook his head at him as he moved passed the pooka to dip his hand into the river of sand.

Sandy stood there for a breathless moment, just trailing his fingers in the golden grains, then with a quick flick of his wrist a thin stream of sand detached from the rest, swirling around in the air before finally settling into the form of a bloodhound. Aster's nose twitched and his ears flattened to his head again.

He hated dogs.

Sandy shot him a knowing look, amusement dancing in his golden eyes. Aster's spine stiffened and his ears perked back up in a show of prideful arrogance, staring resolutely into his friends eyes challengingly.

Sandy rolled his eyes and turned back to his sand, an amused tilt to his lips the only tell revealing his mirth at Aster's irritated mumbling. Symbols flashed over his head again, the hound watched with the rapt attention of a hunter. The eager, hungry look in the sand creatures eyes did nothing to quell Aster's trepidation and he made sure to keep a healthy distance between them.

Sandy finished issuing orders, the hound barked soundlessly and his tail lashed back and forth behind him. He was practically salivating in his excitement…that is if sand creatures could salivate…which they couldn't, but that was beside the point and Aster was a little disturbed by his current train of thought.

He turned his attention back to Sandy at the exact moment that the star nodded in satisfaction. Sandy stood as straight and tall as he could, which wasn't a very impressive height especially not when standing next to Aster's 6'1"…and that was without counting his ears.

With an imperious gesture Sandy sent the hound bounding through the streets, following a scent even Aster's sensitive nose couldn't pick up.

Aster and Sandy leapt into action, racing after the golden trail of stardust the hound left in it's wake.

The hound came to a stop in front of a small house on the outskirts of town, Aster and Sandy came to a stop next to where he was scratching at the space beneath a single window.

Smiling proudly, Sandy patted the hound's head, his touch triggering the hound's return to a pile of sand that he shooed back to work.

Aster hopped over to the window and carefully peered inside. What he saw caused him to blink and draw away from the window, shaking his head in disbelief.

Sandy watched him with a confused expression on his face and an enquiring symbol hovering over his head.

Aster shook his head and returned to the window. Inside the room was a small boy sleeping restlessly in his bed, the dream over his head was twisted and black. A nightmare, which wasn't exactly unusual. Nightmares were a natural part of life, even if it was something that made the fur on the back of Aster's neck stand on end.

What was unusual about the scene was the strange green fox prowling around the room, eyes fixed unnervingly on the nightmare. Before Aster could even label the fox as a threat a stream of golden sand drifted through the window Aster was standing by, startling the pooka into drawing his weapons.

Aster turned to glare at Sandy, who was staring at him with large baffled eyes. The sandman held his hands aloft as he shrugged his shoulders. 'Not me!' His expression screamed.

Frowning now Aster looked back inside the room where he was surprised to note the sand was hovering over the fox, as if waiting for instruction.

The fox yipped soundlessly and dove at the nightmare. Aster made an aborted movement towards the suicidal creature, not really wanting to see it swallowed by the black sand. The glowing golden dream sand flew after the fox and black collided with gold, exploding in a strange fireworks display.

Aster stared in shock as the black sand started to glitter and the golden spread like a flood until there was no black left and sitting sweetly at the child's head, batting softly at the new dream, was the little emerald fox.

To Aster's awe the little creature bounded to the bottom of the bed where the child had kicked off his blanket. The fox gently took the quilt in his mouth and pulled it up over the slumbering boy's form.

Then the fox nosed at the dream one more time, as if checking it for hidden black sand, before bounding over to the window. It completely ignored the two guardians watching him with flabbergasted expression on their faces and frolicked it's way to the next house.

Aster's whiskers twitched and his eyes shifted to meet Sandman's equally confused eyes. "That one a' yours?" He asked gruffly. Sandy shook his head faintly, looking lost. "Hn." Aster replied, uncertain about how to react to that revelation.

Before they lost sight of the strange little creature the two men followed it's trail to the next house where it had slipped through the window. Sandy reached out to run his fingers through a little dusting of bright green sand gathered on the window seal.

It was nothing like either of the guardians had ever seen before, far finer than dream-sand and the bright green grains almost seemed to sparkle in the moonlight.

It was beautiful, and Aster idly wondered if he could replicate that look on some of his eggs.

Inside the room the fox was stalking another nightmare, silently calling more dream-sand to assist him. Obviously the little rascal had some sort of connection to Sandy's dream-sand, even if that connection was unclear. "I'm not sure what he is or where he came from…" Aster admitted, nose twitching as he looked in on the scene playing out in the human's den, "but he appears to be helping the children sleep better. I don't think this is something you need to worry about, mate."

Sandy nodded thoughtfully, a collogue of symbols flickering over his head. Aster turned long enough to catch the jyst of it, and his lips quirked up and his eyes glittered with mirth. "You said it mate, I don't think this is an issue the guardians need to worry about."

Stepping away from the window Aster tapped a foot on the ground, a hole materializing next to him, "I've got a lot of work to do. So I'll catch you later." Then, before the Sandman could even blink Aster hopped into the hole and disappeared, leaving only a small purple flower to show he'd even been there.

Sandy grinned to himself, shaking his head in silent amusement at the pooka before he too drifted away, his mind back on his work and no longer worried about the strange reactions of his sand.

Once the Sandman had become no more than a small golden speck hovering over the forest a shadow detached itself from a nearby building. The small thin figure hesitated before stepping into the moonlight, a thoughtful expression on his elfin face.

Jack had arrived back home in time to see the two strangers stalking Fyren, and it had almost sent him into another panic. Before he could do anything stupid the fox had zipped passed the two unusual guests like they weren't even there, it had been enough to relax the young man. If they had been a threat Fyren would have attacked them like he did the nightmares, and if Fyren didn't have a problem with them then neither did Jack.

He'd briefly thought about trying to introduce himself but the sting of his most recent rejection was still strong and so he'd hung back, hidden behind a small shack and simply watched.

One had been small and looked like he was made of the dream-sand Fyren was composed of, that also set his mind at ease since nothing bad had ever come from sand of that particular color.

The other figure had been the complete opposite, tall and muscular with long pointed ears and soft looking grey and white fur. Jack thought he loosely resembled a rabbit, and he couldn't help but be curious.

Jack stood there for a long time after they had left, lost in his thoughts as he stared up at the moon. When he finally detached himself from his daydreaming he glided over to the place the taller of the two figures had vanished.

Kneeling down he inspected the ground curiously, but he found only one thing that was peculiar. A single elegant purple bloom still glistening with magic stood proud and bold in the otherwise empty walkway.

Jack was hypnotized by this new form of magic. He'd only ever seen winter magic before, and that was only because he used it. This was a strange new discovery and Jack couldn't help but be giddy as he reached one pale finger out to trace over the soft petals. Warmth tingled across his fingertip causing his eyes to widen in surprise before a shimmer of frost fell over the blossom like a curtain and encased the delicate bloom in a gleaming shell of ice. Jack snatched his hand back to his chest as if he'd been burned, his eyes wide in dismay and a glimmer of tears glazing his sapphire orbs.

What had he done?

Before he could get anymore upset at accidentally ruining the beautiful creation Fyren slinked under his arm, silky sand-fur rubbing against his still bare chest. The fox sniffed at the flower curiously before snapping it free and turning to present his prize to Jack.

Jack gaped at the little fox in horror and when he made no move to take the offering Fyren butted his head against a slender hand before dropping the flower and prancing away, obviously very proud of himself.

Jack slowly reached down to pick up the frozen flower, twirling it in his fingers while he admired the play of light on the glassy surface. Despite his guilt over accidentally killing the beautiful plant he couldn't stop the small smile from curling his lips and softening his expression.

He wondered, absently, if he'd ever see the two strangers again.

_**Pitch** _

_**Roughly 300 years later** _

Nighttime is a time of rest, a moment of peace planted in the middle of a long busy day. Dreams fill the darkness with a beautiful golden light that touched everyone and everything.

But not everything consists of rainbows and unicorns. Nighttime was also the best time of the day to breed fear and that was something Pitch took very seriously. Especially so soon after his defeat and subsequent banishment, imprisoned by his own nightmares. He couldn't be certain how much time he had spent cooped up in his lair sending the few shadows he had at his beck and call out to gather fear for him.

Slowly but surly he had gained back his strength and his hold over the Nightmares had returned, freeing him from his prison.

He spent some time stalking around the city streets hoping it would settle his thoughts. It didn't.

Pitch eventually found himself in his usual thinking spot, a secluded circle of land up in what was now North Carolina. Pacing.

The Guardian's last parting shot kept ringing in his head, his fury building with each echo of their voices.

He wasn't afraid.

He was, after all, the boogieman what could he possibly have to be afraid of?

Certainly not that boy.

Jack frost.

Even the thought was ridiculous. But that didn't make the Guardians comments sting any less, nor did it rid him of the bitter taste of their pity.

They thought they were so good. Righteous and strong. But they were weak, powerless when up against his greatness.

Even the last of the Pooka was no match for him now, and that was a triumph he wouldn't soon forget.

The only reason they had even won that last round was because of Jack. If that bothersome brat hadn't gotten involved he would have succeeded in ridding the world of the Guardians and ushering in a new Dark Age. If Jack hadn't been there…

If Jack hadn't been there.

A cold cruel smile spread across Pitch's ashen visage, pulling his thin lips back into his usual shark-like grin.

Oh. Oh, that was perfect. So simple.

It was such a perfectly wicked idea that he had to let out a dark chuckle on principle alone.

The plan was this: Get rid of Jack Frost. Take him out of the picture, and Pitch knew just how to go about doing it.

He stopped his pacing, absently noting his circle of influence had expended a couple inches killing off the few green sprigs of grass that had managed to creep towards his stamping grounds.

Pitch spared a brief moment to glare up at the moon spitefully before storming into the woods and vanishing into the shadows.

MIM watched helplessly from his faraway post on the Moon, a worried frown on his round face and a singular troubling thought on his mind: What was Pitch up to now?

In a land hidden away from humans and all but lost to legend lay a spring. The spring sat in the midst of a tropical paradise surrounded on one side by tall brooding cliffs and fading out into a beautiful endless sea of emerald trees.

Now this was no ordinary spring filled with fresh clean water. Nor was it the fabled fountain of Youth. No, this spring was more fantastical still, flowing with the clear ever-shifting Sands of Time.

This was the place Pitch Black materialized, cloaked from the watchful eyes of the Man in the Moon by the enchanted folds of a cloak lined with Lead from the Earth's Core. The inky black hood was pulled low over his face and the deep billows of the cape wrapped around him like a lover.

This cloak was a treasure he seldom used, hand sewn by the Fates themselves and enchanted by none other than Medusa. Despite it's handy way of hiding him from the sight of the Moon it was very taxing on his magic, so more often than not it was a liability more than an aide. He wasn't overly worried, though, he only needed a few minutes to collect his bounty then return to his lair, and although the cloak would be enough to disguise him from the Moon it would not fool the Guardians of the Spring.

He had barely set foot in the glade when a mighty roar echoed down into the valley and a huge figure launched itself from atop the cliffs to loom over Pitch. Massive wings stretched over the sky, blocking out the moon before it curled them close to it's body and swooped towards the ground.

Pitch watched impassively as the large white dragon landed heavily on a conveniently placed outcropping of rock. The dragon squinted at him for a moment, and Pitch noted the scar slithering down over one of his eyes, he would have to keep that in mind should things take an…unexpected turn. The dragon leaned in close to look at him through his one good eye before rearing back and hissing angrily.

"King of Nightmares." The being boomed, his voice shaking the trees nearby causing a flurry of bright green leave to flutter to the forest floor. "You trespass in a hallowed ground." A snapping of fangs and lashing of his tail accompanied the piercing look the dragon bestowed upon him, "Leave." He roared, slamming his tail into the ground behind him sending clouds of dirt and vegetation into the air.

"Oh, come now," Pitch scoffed, his voice taking on a smooth beguiling tone, "Whatever happened to your hospitality? I would expect more from such a fine old dragon such as yourself."

Despite his best attempt at flattery the ancient creature remained unmoved, glowering angrily at him, "Leave." He repeated, "This place is not for you." Before Pitch could fashion a reply to those growled words the great dragons attention snapped elsewhere.

"Baby New Year!" He bellowed, the ground shaking at the sheer volume of it, and smoke trailing from his nose, "What have I told you about playing with time!"

Startled Pitch glanced towards the spring, his final goal in this little venture, even if he'd only spared it a cursory glance upon arrival.

A shadow Pitch had not noticed before lurked just beneath the surface. Pitch's eyebrows disappeared into his hair, how odd. He was always meticulously aware of each and ever shadow in any given location he happened to be occupying. This was not one of his shadows.

Almost as soon as this realization entered his mind the gently burbling surface of the spring erupted into a geyser, liquid sand flying into the air along with a small black body.

Pitch watched the beats of time fall with a covetous hungry expression, greed shining like embers in his eyes.

The little black bullet paused at the top of it's arch, little wings curled forward as it hung suspended a perfect imitation of her fathers earlier move, before diving directly at Pitch. A mighty war cry of "Demon!" was screamed as the form descended the sound echoing off the cliffs in a truly impressive way.

Pitch watched the little ebony missile getting closer and closer with a detached calm and an arched eyebrow. When the little black creature was inches away from Pitch's smug face she was jerked backwards with a wounded yelp and left to dangle from the bigger dragons teeth by the tip of her tail.

Pouting up a storm the small black dragon glowered at the Nightmare King, her eyes promising much pain upon escape.

Father Time dropped the little menace, shifted his massive behind…and sat on her. "Manners Baby." He growled out in obvious annoyance.

Pitch blinked slowly, the only sign of his surprise he allowed to surface. "As interesting as it is to watch your family dramatics I didn't just come for a nice chit chat."

Father Time growled at him, obviously displeased with the reminder of his unwelcome guest. "This place in Not for you, leave." Smoke billowed threateningly from his nostrils and flames licked passed his teeth as he repeated that same phrase again.

"Fine, fine." Pitch relented, raising his arms in the classic 'innocent pose.' "But first…a question."

The dragon was obviously displeased by this further delay of Pitch's departure but he settled back down. Pitch could just see the little New Year squirming out from under the larger dragons rump.

Pitch took the dragons retreat as a reluctant acquiescence to his question. A truly wicked smile stretched across Pitch's thin lips again, "Time is such a crucial part of the universe, which would make guarding it very important." Father Time puffed out his chest proudly at Pitch's words. It was the exact reaction he had been looking for and he continued with a malicious sort of glee, "But there would be no need for such a guardian if someone didn't go out to collect all that wasted Time ever new year.'

Baby New Year seemed to perk up as he mentioned her job and he knew he had her hooked as well. It was time to go in for the kill. "So, I was wondering, which of the two jobs was the  _most_  important."

Pitch stood back, his arms braced behind him and waited for the chaos he had just unleashed.

He didn't have to wait long, moments after he had dropped that loaded question Baby New Year yanked her way free and exploded in a cacophony of exclamations. "Me!" She screamed excitedly as she zipped through the air. "I'm most important. Me. Me. Me." She chirped.

Pitch looked from the dragonet to her parent, who was silently fuming. It couldn't be long until his pride got the better of him and-

"Baby!" Father Time roared, "You will sit your little tail back down right this minute and behave."

Oh…well. That wasn't quite what Pitch had in mind. A frown furrowed his brow as he stared at the dragon in irritation, weren't dragons supposed to be vain, prideful creatures? If this didn't work Pitch would have to rework his plan and that was unacceptable.

"Besides." The beast went on before Pitch could work himself into a tizzy. "I obviously have the more important calling."

Instead of Baby New Year calming down the older Dragon's words appeared to have the opposite effect and she became enraged.

She hovered in the air for a split second before throwing the tantrum of the century, "NOOOOO!" She wailed in distress. "Me! Me! Me!" Her denial seemed to anger her father even more and he snapped at her.

The little black dragon shrieked and dove out of the way, her father's fangs clapping over nothing but thin air. Father time huffed in irritation, turning slowly to track her with his good eye.

While father Time and Baby New Year fought Pitch used their distraction to his advantage and casually stepped closer to the spring. He kept one eye on the squabbling pair of dragons as he bent down to dip his hands into the liquid time-sand.

A frighteningly enraged roar echoed across the valley, shaking the ground and rustling the leaves in the trees.

Pitch's head snapped up in time to see Father time focused completely on him. He stumbled away from the spring, Time-Sand flying everywhere as he dodged out of the way of a flash of fire sent at him by Baby New Year.

Father Time roared again, a flock of birds alighting from a nearby tree in fright, and slashed at him with sword-like claws.

Pitch dodged the attack, but not before his cloak caught on one of his claws and rent in two. Pitch didn't have time to mourn the loss before he was ducking out of the way of a heavy swing of the white dragons tail.

One more leaping step backwards and he was safely in the shadows.

Pitch vanished from the glade, his villainous laugh reverberating through the valley.

The laugh cut off abruptly when he returned to his lair, snarling in frustration and lashing out at the nearest nightmare.

This was a disaster. All his plans were spoiled, there was no possible way to get at that spring now, not with those dragons on high alert.

And look what they had done to his cloak! Ruined! The once beautiful black fabric was now nothing more than rags.

Fuming he stormed towards the next closest nightmare, since the first one had disintegrated with a frightened snort. When he flung his arm out to strike the second nightmare something strange happened. A gleaming sliver of light tumbled away from his torn cloak, clicking against the floor hollowly before rolling to a stop at the hoofs of the nightmare.

Pitch stared down at the small grain of sand in complete surprise before smiling deviously and bending down to pick up the single piece of Time Sand that had stowed away with him.

It looked like things were finally going his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the plot thickens. We'll get more into what Pitch has planned next chapter. We'll also start to see more of Aster from here on out. Originally Aster wasn't going to have a very big part until the romance started but he simply wouldn't listen to me...that's okay though...I like this better.  
> So, tell me what you think, or if you have any suggestions I'm always willing to listen.


	5. chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster sees the strange new winter spirit for the first time and begins his not so subtle stalking. Oh, and Pitch Plots...

_**Chapter 4** _

_**Pitch** _

Pitch stood in the dark of the forest, sheltered from the intrusive eyes of the Tsar Lunar and hidden from his little spies (aka: moonbeams) by the broad arms of the trees.

A cool smile slit his ashen face as he watched his growing battalion of nightmares converge on the town. The little frost spirit and his companion scrambled oh so deliciously to counter the black twisted dreams with bright golden hope. It would prove to be in vain of course.

Yes, his plans were progressing quite nicely.

Satisfied, the Nightmare King sank into the shadows, reemerging in the labyrinth of his lair. He paused upon entering his throne room, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the room. Something was off. He could feel it, but he was having a hard time pinpointing exactly what was wrong.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable Pitch walked into the room, heading for the drink bar he had stashed away in a corner. His continued success deserved a celebration.

While Pitch was busy a pair of poisonous yellow eyes watched from where _he_ was perched on the throne.

Pitch turned, fully intending to take his seat only to find it already occupied. He stopped walking for a long moment, simply staring at his unexpected guest. If he was at all alarmed he didn't show it.

"Now, this is a surprise." He remarked casually, taking a long drink from his glass.

The spectral form lounging on his throne grinned a familiar shark like grin, "Indeed." _He_ agreed, his smooth accented voice echoing faintly in the cavernous chamber. "But we have no time for pleasantries." The spectral figure admitted before Pitch could say anything more.

The Nightmare King pursed his lips, his golden eyes going hard. He nodded his head curtly, "A time constraint. Of course." He turned a thoughtful look on his guest. "Whatever brought you here must be big, Sands of Time are not an easy commodity to acquire. Thus the reason we never tried before."

The ghost like Pitch seated on the throne smiled back grimly, "No. They are not." He agreed "Father Time is a very greedy dragon, but that is not the reason I am here. There has been a change of plans." He paused to lift a single finger, unable to suppress his dramatic flare, "Your plans." He elaborated, pointing that spindly finger at his younger self.

Past Pitch frowned, "Don't be ridiculous. My plans are going perfectly. There is no reason to change things now."

The spectral Pitch rose to his feet elegantly, the stark white bones of the throne gleaming from behind his transparent form, an irritated expression on his pallid face, ""You may think things are going smoothly, but they are not." He insisted.

Pitch narrowed his eyes, "What do you know.?" He hissed suspiciously.

"I'm sure you are aware of a new winter spirit that has been lurking around recently."

Pitch sneered, thinking of the boy fighting his nightmares earlier that evening. "That white haired little brat?" he clarified.

Spectral Pitch nodded. "Jack Frost. He's more of a threat that I…we…could have ever anticipated." He paused in what he was saying to level his past self with a severe look, "Don't let him connect with any of the Guardians. Keep them apart by whatever means necessary."

Future Pitch could feel his grip on the past fading and so he left one last piece of advice, "That boy is dangerous, if you can find a way, get rid of him." He glared at his past self one last time, "Don't forget to alter the plan, it's doomed to failure as long as that boy is alive." Then he was gone and Pitch was once more alone in his lair, the glass he had retrieved for celebration now gripped painfully hard.

In a fit of temper he turned and hurled the goblet at a nearby wall where it shattered upon impact.

The boiling anger dissipated as he watched the glass shards clatter to the floor. Pitch turned his back on the mess and glided over to the large black globe that occupied the majority of the room.

What his future self had said rang true, no matter how bitter the thought. He had obviously gone through a lot of trouble to change events. It was something he'd contemplated frequently but ultimately discarded as too unpredictable an outcome and not worth the effort.

A quick gesture of his hand summoned one of his Nightmares, the creature was not yet fully grown, only reaching to about his hips and there was a web work of golden veins bleeding from her eyes. He reached out and brushed a thumb over the leakage and watched satisfied as it was stained black once more.

"Go. Follow the boy. Jack Frost. Don't let him near any of the Guardians. Do whatever you must to keep them apart." For now that would have to do, it would take him some time to come up with anything half as brilliant as his last plan.

As Pitch lost himself in his plotting the little black Nightmare vanished into the shadows to find it's prey.

_**Jack Frost** _

The next day, after a rigorous night fighting off the demons that seemed strangely determined to feed off the children Jack had taken under his wing he retreated into the forest to get a bit of rest before the next night's shenanigans began.

Naturally the place he fled to was what Jack had begun to consider 'his lake'. And while it was a good solid place to sleep most nights (or days as had become the norm as of late) Jack had discovered that with the warmer weather the lake became a less than ideal location to get any shuteye.

So after a brief pause to stare forlornly at the water Jack headed further into the trees, Fyren trotting merrily along at his heels.

The winter spirit didn't have anywhere in particular in mind and soon found himself standing in front of the biggest tree he had ever seen. "Wow." He murmured, staring up at it in slack-jawed awe.

A giddy excitement filled him, burning in his arms and legs making him bounce on his toes precariously. Everything inside of him was screaming for him to climb that tree. It was perfect! He turned to race back into town, his excitement bubbling forth and he just had to tell-

Jack paused, a confused frown furrowing his brow, "Who…?" There was someone there. Someone important…on the edge of his memory - shrouded in shadows and cobwebs. The winter spirit shifted his weight from foot to foot, anxious now for reasons he couldn't quite name. His mind was racing to identify that person, that someone important.

But it was gone. Lost to the wind like a butterfly's kiss.

Not one to let a moment of befuddlement spoil his mood, Jack grinned at Fyren before dashing towards the tree. Fyren yipped excitedly at him, racing after the boy and nipping at his heels playfully.

The boy, seemingly forgetting he could fly, tackled the tree head on. Scrambling up the staggered branches his bare feet easily finding purchase and using his staff as another, longer reaching arm he darted from one perch to the next, a light hearted laugh following him all the way up.

It didn't take long for Jack to reach the top, erupting through the newly born green leaves and the trees widely stretching fingers with a loud cry of triumph.

Glancing back down the trunk Jack laughed as he saw the little green fox bouncing from branch to branch, bright emerald sand bursting beneath his paws every time he landed.

Swinging down, Jack dropped a couple feet to land in a light crouch on a wide branch perfectly proportioned for lounging. It wasn't his iced over lake, that was for sure, but it looked comfortable enough.

Looking around at the beautiful bright leaves and the gorgeous view, (it was a ridiculously tall tree after all) towering over the rest of the forest from it's post on top of the hill overlooking Jack's Lake.

Jack's bright blue eyes scanned the landscape and he felt a blossoming emotion well up inside him. Satisfaction.

This place really was perfect.

After waiting another moment to simply admire his surroundings Jack made himself comfortable, leaning back against the wide trunk. Jack reached into his cloak and pulled out the flower he had frozen. It was still as beautiful as the first time he'd seen it and now it glittered like a fine jewel in the sunlight.

Twirling the gem in his fingers Jack lost himself in admiring the play of light over the smooth faceted surface. He never noticed the fox creeping up on him, a playful gleam in his mismatched eyes.

With Jack distracted it presented the perfect opportunity to prank the prankster. Fyren crouched low, fluffy tail swishing behind him lazily. Then he pounced.

The little fox landed heavily, all four paws planted firmly on Jack's chest.

"Woah!" Jack exclaimed, one arm automatically coming up to brace his companion, the other fumbling to keep hold of the iced flower as he was slammed back against the tree.

A loud ominous ' _crack_ ' sounded through the air directly behind him. Then they were falling, the cool dark shadows swallowing the boy, fox, and flower.

_**E Aster Bunnymund** _

As soon as Jack and Fyren disappeared inside the tree a hole materialized directly below where the two had been sitting.

Seconds later a long set of blue grey ears rose, twitching, above the grass. They were followed shortly by Bunnymund's twitching nose. Not sensing anything dangerous in the immediate vicinity Aster lept out of the hole allowing it to close up behind him -but not before two of his googies slipped out prancing about his paws proudly.

Aster frowned at the eggs in stern disappointment which quickly turned into fond exasperation. Shaking his head he stepped out into the open he was unprepared for the biting chill in the air. "Ah crikey." He muttered under his breath as he rubbed his paws together, his ears falling to lay flat against his skull.

A quick look around was all it would take, then he could return to the nice warm walls of his tunnels.

He wasn't really sure what exactly he was looking for but his sources had led him here. Glancing around he couldn't see anything particularly menacing in the area.

It really was a beautiful piece of land with a grand old elm taking point. Beyond the ancient elm tree, down in the dell was a beautiful little lake, glistening in the sun like wet paint.

Aster was just about to call this location a bust, just like the hundred or so others he'd already checked out and head back to finish his Easter preparations when something unusual caught his attention.

Shifting backwards into the underbrush Aster watched as the shadows beneath the tree came to life, circling the trunk like bloodthirsty goblins stalking a wounded animal.

A low warning growl escaped through his tightly clenched teeth and his hand clenched around the solid handle of his staff.

Pitch. Of course. How had he not seen it sooner? This was just the sort of plot that stinking rat-bag would think was a good idea.

But what could that coward want with the Sands of Time? It was troubling to say the least.

And who was this new ally of his?

Frost.

Whoever he was he sounded dangerous.

This was just what they needed, another Pitch. The swarm of shadows circled around the base of the tree restlessly, obviously waiting for their leader to appear.

Again Aster surveyed the surrounding forest, but nothing really stood out. It wasn't even that cold. Sure it was a little chilly, but if one of those cruel winter spirits were really around here they wouldn't have bothered tempering their use of magic.

It really was baffling.

His imagination was running wild trying to picture just what he would be up against. He frowned in thought, realizing he didn't have much to base his thoughts on other than a name. Although…it was a very telling name.

Jack Frost.

Obviously he was some sort of winter spirit; tall and pale as death seemed to be the norm for their type. Stormy grey eyes and a cold brittle smile filled with sharks teeth that stretched obscenely wide over a sharply defined face that could have easily been carved from ice.

Even just thinking about the villain sent a shiver of rage and trepidation down Aster's spine. Winter was a dangerous season all on it's own, but if one of them was teaming up with Pitch, then they were in trouble.

The shadow creatures circling around the base of the elm were becoming increasingly agitated, snapping at each other it was obvious they were growing impatient, when something moved up in the trees branches. Emerald eyes sketched through the arms of the tree before locking onto the disturbance with the kind of focus only a warrior possesses.

At first he thought the being crawling out of the tree was a nymph or dryad, but that thought was quickly discarded when he noted the messy head of snow white hair.

Frost. This had to be him. At last Aster would be able to put a face to the name.

The spirit detached itself from the elm and Aster wondered just what he had been doing inside the tree in the first place…that wasn't exactly normal Winter behavior.

Now Aster was able to get his first good look at the new villain and he-

Wait.

No.

That couldn't be right.

Spring green eyes raked over the winter spirit's form. He was thin and pale but that was the only thing he'd gotten correct with his earlier assessment. The boy was small, almost elfin, with wide mischievous blue eyes. But the thing that really threw Aster was his apparent age. The boy was young. Like really young. He looked to be on the very cusp of manhood.

Baffled by what he was seeing Aster could only stare. He was so busy staring, in fact, that he failed to notice the small green shape jump out of the tree and land nimbly amongst the shadow creatures.

Fyren snarled and snapped at the shades, watching smugly as they scattered like mice. Feeling proud of himself the little green fox pranced away into the underbrush, only to freeze and blink in confusion.

As a creature made of stardust, dreams, and magic Fyren was used to strange and unusual sights, but a dancing neon pink egg with little white legs was weird even for him.

Huffing, Fyren shook his head and crouched down, his tail held low and stiff as he stalked forward to investigate.

When he was about a foot away the egglet turned and paused upon seeing him, one of it's spindly little legs hanging suspended in the air.

Fyren grinned at it revealing his long sharp teeth. The colorful little tidbit toppled over, rolled onto it's feet, and fled as fast as his little legs could move.

Feral grin splitting his face and tongue lolling out one side of his muzzle the little green dream gave chase.

The egg scrambled over the ground, tiny pebbles and twigs flying every which way.

Fyren, seeing the egg heading towards a mouse hole under a bush pounced, cutting off it's escape.

The little egg jolted at the foxes sudden appearance and tottered precariously on one leg as it pivoted, wobbling wildly for a moment before it regained it's balance and took off at full speed again.

Fyren waited a heartbeat, letting the odd little toy get a bit of a head start before launching into the hunt once again.

Aster was just getting ready to confront the new spirit when a little pink bullet flew under his feet, tiny little legs running over his paws to hide behind the fluffy fur on his legs.

The pooka only had a moment to realize the googie was trembling when a green blur slammed into him.

"Crickey!" Aster yelped again as he went down, a billow of green sand erupting around him as he landed hard, the green fox sitting on his chest, blinking down at him innocently.

Movement by his ear had the green foxes head snapping up and Aster felt the sand creatures muscles tense in preparation. "Not happenin' mate." He growled, grabbing the foxes scruff and holding him aloft as he got back to his feet.

He opened his mouth to begin reprimanding the fox when laughter bubbled through the air. Aster's ears perked and he looked up automatically, eyes latching onto the boy in the tree.

Even as he watched Frost seemed to forget exactly where he was standing in his laughter, so it wasn't all that surprising when he overbalanced and toppled off the branch with a surprised yelp.

Aster smirked up at the boy, a smart remark on the tip of his tongue, his hostility towards the boy momentarily forgotten. That is until one of the shadows took offense to him laughing at it's master and flew at the pooka's face, fangs and claws gleaming obsidian in the dappled sunlight streaming through the trees, smoke hissing angrily from wherever the light touched.

Aster flinched back automatically, his grip on the fox loosening enough to allow the green sand creature to drop onto the ground.

As if triggered by the attack, Shadow spawn descended on him in a wave. Gritting his teeth in frustrated anger Aster drew out his boomerangs with one hand and whirled his staff in a large arch around him with the other, shadows disappearing in a swirl of smoke upon contact.

At his feet the little green sand fox darted about, weaving between his paws in a frenzy of claws, fangs, and swirling green sand, snapping at any shadow unfortunate enough to get close.

For every dark fiend the duo felled three more took it's place swarming like a nest of angry bees. There were so many of them that Aster wondered exactly where they were all coming from.

They were horribly outnumbered and it was only a matter of time before they were completely overwhelmed. Before that could happen Aster tapped his foot on the ground opening one of his tunnels next to where they were fighting.

He didn't have to order the retreat before his googies were hopping into the tunnel, the magic swallowing them whole as they vanished back to the burrow. Aster spent a few precious moments trying to urge his new (reluctant) green friend into the hole as well.

The fox balked, ducking between Aster's spread paws and barreling into the newest tide of monsters.

Surprised Aster spun around, automatically ducking under an attack aimed at his head. His eyes tracked the bright stream of color through the wall of black smoke followed behind.

The fox was finally able to break through and Aster was granted the brief opportunity to witness the fight taking place on the other side of the glen.

Shadowy figures circled around a crouching form, the shock of white hair on his head a dead giveaway as to his identity.

The sight was so unexpected that Aster completely forgot what was going on for a moment while he stared at the boy's clearly defensive stance.

Then the moment was gone, swallowed up by a sea of shadowy monsters.

Aster growled in frustration when the creatures surrounding him stepped up their game and with one last lingering look in the enigma's direction, retreated into his tunnels.

As he raced away Aster couldn't help but think about the last couple hours. He had more questions now than before and Father Time had some serious explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a bit shorter then the last chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Please feel free to leave your thoughts on the story or where you think I'm taking it. I'll see you all at the next chapter.


	6. Chapter 5

Easter was just around the corner and Aster really should be working on preparations. Time was short and he didn't have time for distractions. But this simply could not wait.

His first stop was the Vale of Time, after all he had a bone to pick with one senile old dragon.

The valley was exactly as he had left it hours before, caught in an eternal twilight. Father Time was lounging on a rock overlooking the Spring, sunning himself in the faint light of the fading sun, which painted the mighty dragon's pristine white scales in dazzling pinks and oranges. The artist in Aster was standing at attention, taking in every brilliant detail, his thoughts swirling around new plans for his next googie designs.

He practically flew across the valley, stopping to glower at the bigger creature. "Explain." He grunted.

Father cracked his good eye open, "I owe you no such thing, Pooka." He boomed importantly before closing his eye, "Now leave me be. Crazy little creature." He grumbled to himself as he turned his head away from Aster, who scowled.

"I can hear you.' He informed the dragon gruffly before turning to the real reason he was there, "You sent me on a wild goose chase after some new baby-spirit and without the most important fact."

"I know not of what you are babbling about, now get to the point." Father Time groused, his head still facing away from Aster like a petulant child.

Aster twitched, frustration clear in the taut line of his spine. "Pitch." He growled, marching around the dragon to glare directly into his face, "You failed to tell me that Pitch was involved. Some little boy I could have brushed off and set straight, but if he's aligned himself with Pitch…" He broke off his rant with a growl.

Before Father Time could respond or Aster could continue a little black ball of pure energetic youth tackled Aster. Bunny went flying back, his arms automatically coming up to catch the kit and protect her from the harsh landing.

All the air rushed from him and he stared up into Baby's excited little face. "Pikk, Pitch. Pitch!" She chirped at him.

The little dragon's father growled, giving his complete attention to his hyperactive child. He moved to snatch her up, but Aster rolled out of the way, cuddling the little dragon protectively in his arms, "Don't even try it. If you won't give me the information I need, she'll tell me." He turned his attention back to the baby dragon, but could still feel Father Time's one good eye drilling a hole in the back of his head.

He ignored it.

"Pitch!" She cooed, and Aster smiled at her kindly.

"Yes. Pitch. What did that rotten snake do?"

Baby blinked huge gold eyes at Bunnymund, "Sand. Pitch pikk sand." She informed him solemnly.

Aster shot up his hands clutching onto the small dragon sitting on his lap and pined Father time with furious green eyes. "Pitch stole from the spring? Ar' ya insane? Why didn't ya tell me?"

Father tilted his head up with a self important sniff, "He tried to steal my sand, yes. But he was unsuccessful. I drove him away. No one can best my glory."

Aster seethed, and the little dragon gave out a small squeak when Aster's grip on her tightened almost painfully. The pooka instantly released her, rubbing the base of her horns in apology.

"You blind old fool." He growled at the lazy dragon. "Obviously he made off with something otherwise I wouldn't have felt that shift in the time-line." He set Baby on the ground and stomped closer to the Guardian of Time. "Ya better hope we can stop whatever fowl scheme 'e's concocted or Ahm holdin' ya responsible." He warned with so much venom in his voice it made the ancient creature shudder.

Aster whirled around, anger radiating from him. He patted baby on the head when he passed her, murmuring a soft, "Good job."

Baby beamed proudly, her black scales gleaming in the fading glow.

Aster could feel Father's eye following him, but he ignored the great lump and without even a glance back at the creature, he tapped one of his large paws on the ground and disappeared into the tunnel, heading directly to North's workshop.

_*****Frostbunny***** _

For Jack, the battle with the Nightmares ended as abruptly as it had begun. He stood gaping stupidly in the cool spring evening, his staff held loosely in his limp grasp as he watched the creatures disappear into the shadows.

Fyren was growling at anything that moved, stalking around the clearing with a fluffed up tail and sharp mismatched eyes.

Jack turned in a slow circle, his own eyes scanning the area, but they were truly alone. Not even a hint remained to tell of their presence.

Oh! And what about that creature he'd noticed earlier, the giant rabbit that had been staring at him. What had happened to him?

Spinning back around, Jack's eyes snapped to the last place he'd seen the creature. The fight had ended when that person had vanished, and Jack found that very interesting.

He gestured at Wind, jumping into her arms and allowing her to carry him across the clearing. He landed in a light crouch next to another small purple flower.

This time he didn't hesitate before plucking the delicate bloom, his magic flowing up to in case the flower in a layer of protective frost.

Twirling his new prize between his fingers he turned back to the tree. Fyren was still scouting the area, looking for trespassers. Jack barely cast him a thought before flying back up the tree to the limb he had first perched on. The place he had fallen through was a ragged hole in the otherwise sturdy trunk. The edges were sharp and jagged, Jack was amazed he hadn't been torn to pieces when he had fallen through.

Lightly tapping his staff against the rough opening, allowing his magic loose on the broken bark, and once it was frozen over he started chipping away at it, breaking off large chunks at a time. He whittled away at the opening until it gaped widely and he was able to slip safely inside.

The interior of the tree was surprisingly spacious, all things considered, with a three foot circumference. There were indents in the bark that Jack immediately pegged as shelves. Seeing that, he cautiously pulled his two frozen flowers from their resting place in his cloak, and set them down on the lowest shelf. They would be safe here and he wouldn't have to worry about them shattering or melting in the sunlight.

Smiling happily, Jack climbed back out, the wind kindly speeding the way. He peeked his head out and found himself nose to nose with a little green fox.

Jack yelped and lost his grip, his arms pin wheeling frantically in an attempt to catch his balance. The wind puffed against his neck in exasperation before shoving him forward roughly.

Jack instantly latched onto the cold, ice covered frame and smiled sheepishly at the grinning Fyren. "Yeah, yeah. Real funny." He groused as he hoisted himself up to lounge on the branch next to Fyren. "So, what do you think?" The teen asked, tilting his head to the opening.

The little sand fox scooted forwards to stick his head in the hole before looking back over his shoulder and yipping a mute approval. Jack grinned. "Great. Now how about we go have some fun?"

Fyren grinned back at him before they both took off, Jack staying just long enough to seal the entrance with a thick sheet of ice to keep any pests away from his things. Then they rose into the sky like the morning sun and floated away with the clouds.

Jack led his little companion to the one place that continued to hold his attention. The bright spring colors and warmer air gradually gave way to a familiar icy tundra.

The colorful fortress of the Furry King was exactly as he'd left it…on complete lock down.

Jack immediately started trying doors and rattling windows. The grey creature he'd 'met' earlier followed him from room to room, casting him dirty looks every time as if he hadn't expected to see him waving cheekily just beyond the bright red curtains.

Of course, Jack made a game of it. Darting to random rooms to see if he could outsmart the creature. His game was cut short when Fyren popped up out of nowhere, practically vibrating, he was so excited.

"Find something good?" Jack asked curiously, leaning against his staff for balance.

Fyren bounced over to him bumping against his legs before darting away, vanishing around a corner. Smirking playfully Jack completely forgot his previous game and gave chase (much to the yeti's relief). He rounded the corner, looking around he found Fyren waiting impatiently, the little creature yipped and bounced off again. Laughing, Jack followed his mischievous friend the glacier and up, up, up!

It was at this point that Jack came to an abrupt halt. Fyren had found the mouth of a cave waiting for him just inside it's gaping maw, his fluffy tail swinging to and fro with exaggerated excitement. The cave itself was angled up at the sky and there were strange metal rails climbing out of it's ice strewn depths.

Oh. This looked fun.

Jack and Fyren shared one quick look before diving head first into the cave. Racing each other to see who could reach the end fastest.

Fyren barreled straight into Jack, sending him careening into the nearest wall. Dazed, it took Jack a second longer then usual to register the animal's feral grin.

"Oh. You want to play dirty, do you?" He growled playfully, swinging his staff out at the little pest. Fyren yelped soundlessly as he dodged the blow before he dashed off into the dimly lit cavern. "Oh, it is on!" Jack crowed as he raced after his friend.

The two continued their merry game of tag for a good few minutes. They darted up and down the strange tunnel, hiding behind dangling daggers of ice or outcroppings of rock.

It wasn't until Jack stumbled upon a strange towering door made out of frosted metal that he called a stop to their game.

"Just what is this place?" Jack wondered aloud as he looked around with wide blue eyes.

Fyren bumped against his leg before he started sniffing around. Jack crept closer to the door, lightly trailing his fingers over the cold surface, "There has to be another way in." He said, determination squaring his shoulders.

At that moment Fyren poked his head around a boulder and beckoned Jack over. The frost spirit grinned and hopped over to him as Fyren ducked back down. Moments later Jack was standing in front of a small wooden door, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Perfect.

**_***Frostbunny***_ **

What Aster really wanted to do was head down to his burrow for a nice sunny nap followed by some relaxing egg painting. He'd had a long few days and he needed a break.

Only, there were no breaks waiting in Aster's immediate future. He had too much to do, and that was without Easter looming over his head.

Even so, Aster had no wish to brave the hostile conditions North seemed to favor. He sat huddled in the tunnel of snow for a long while just trying to steel himself.

"Ah, com' on Aster, ya yellow bellied coward, get yer furry tail movin'. Ya haven got all day." He berated himself under his breath, hoping to spark some long lost dregs of Pookan Pride. But it did little good. He still didn't want to go outside.

It was cold out there.

Fed up, and just a small bit disgusted with himself, Aster surged back into action, opening a portal to the world above and hoping out before he had the time to think. "Ah, crickey." Aster bit out as the below zero atmosphere hit him like a meteor. He was never prepared for it, no matter how often -or not- he visited his old companion.

Shivering from the cold, ears and nose twitching in irritation, Aster started his race towards North's sprawling snowy hideout. It wasn't long before the Easter Bunny's feet went numb and his majestic loping turned into an awkwardly amusing dance as he tried (unsuccessfully) to shake feeling back into his frozen toes.

He burst through the hulking double doors, completely ignoring the lock shattering on the floor and the alarms that began blaring through the spacious chambers. He ignored everything around him as he limped his way over to the nearest fireplace and proceeded to rub away the needles and pin's sensation.

His fur was layered with sparking white death, that quickly melted leaving him wet and even colder than before.

It was to this sorry, sopping sight that an army of angry yetis charged into the room, brandishing broomsticks and little pieces of toys around in what was supposed to be an intimidating fashion.

Aster raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the lot of them and turned back to what he had been doing, the yetis all stood frozen in the threshold looking guilty.

Moments later Nicholas St. North strolled into the room, a beaming smile on his face, and his arms spread wide in welcome. "Bunny!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

"North." Aster drawled. "We've got a problem."

North's smile slipped off his face, quickly replaced by the severe expression of a warrior anticipating bad news. "Straight to point, Bunny. As usual." He paused as he spotted a tray sitting precariously on a window ledge. "Ah!, eggnog. Want some?" His long strides carried him across the room quickly, picking up a cookie on his way and stuffing half of it in his mouth.

Bunny couldn't help but to perk up at the invitation. Normally he would say no on principle, but…he could never refuse Eggnog.

It was the nectar of the Gods, he was sure of it.

He gave a curt nod, but refused to further loose character, despite his ears tracking North's every move.

"So, what iz big news?" You rarely visit so close to Easter." Aster twitched at the mention of his holiday, stress leaking out of every pore in his body. North, wisely, chose not to rib the pooka when he was so obviously distressed, simply narrowing his eyes at the man.

Aster ran a hand over his face, "It's not good, North. Not at all. Pitch sto-"

"Pitch!" North exclaimed, a fire lighting in his belly and causing him to interrupt his guest. "Whatever Pitch iz up to, we will stop him."

Aster glared at him until he settled down, looking sheepish. "Pitch stole from the Spring 'a Time. Ther's no telling just how much 'e took, but 'e's awready changin' things."

"Dis iz bad news." North murmured thoughtfully, starting to pace in front of the fireplace, his eggnog sloshing over the rim of his glass and splashing over his fingers. "Do we know what he changed?" He demanded, stopping to watch for Bunny's answer.

"'Ow on Earth should awh know? Yeh know damn well there's no way ta figure tha' out." Aster snapped, dropping his empty glass onto a nearby table.

North just shrugged at him, not looking a bit contrite.

"Tha's naught all." Aster added reluctantly, "'e might 'ave an accomplice this time. Ahm naught sure."

"Not sure? What do you mean, 'not sure'? He either has or hasn't." North boomed.

Aster shot North a sharp look, before explaining, "Ther's a new winter spirit runnin' 'round an' Pitch's got eyes on 'im." At North's inquiring look he went on. "Ah wasn' able teh get close teh 'im, swarms 'a shadows materialized an' drove me off. But, like ah said, ahm naught sure because 'e didn' seem at all pleased wit' teh intrusion, tried fighten' 'em off actually."

North started up his contemplative pacing again. "Dat iz good." He muttered. "If boy does no want on Pitch's side, we get 'im first."

Aster didn't look too thrilled with that idea, but he didn't say anything either. He knew that was probably their best course of action, but it still rankled him. He wasn't sure how he felt about the boy. Suspicious, definitely. But there was a niggling thought in the back of his mind he was studiously ignoring that said the boy was intriguing.

If Pitch had plans for that boy, then they definitely needed to keep him away from his influence.

Their conversation was interrupted by the door crashing open, banging against the wall as Phil stormed in, looking fit to kill.

Aster's ears rose to attention as both Guardians turned to acknowledge the yeti.

North scowled at the larger male, "Phil." He grunted, "You know rules. If door iz closed: knock."

The yeti didn't seem too put off by the dressing down. He marched forward to stop a few feet from the two attentive Guardians and growled out a quick sentence in yetiish - a language Aster only know that bare basics of. Every word he spoke was punctuated by large, over the top gestures, and he seemed very upset.

North didn't have any problems understanding his assistant's garbled speech. "Wha?" He hissed, "Sometin' iz wrong wit' da stables?"

He exchanged a worried look with Aster as they moved to follow the yeti. There was no telling what was wrong, but Aster would bet it wasn't good.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give a quick shout-out to my reviewers, you all are so awesome and deserve some lovin.  
> littlebirdy3tweet, Hopscotch, icefiresky, Marsh, The_Good_Witch_of_Babble, Gryffindork97, LoveRoundWorld  
> You are all such dedicated readers and I love you for it. It's always great fun hearing what you think of the new chapter or your thoughts on where the story's going. So thank you, you give me inspiration.

The walk to the stables was brief, but they didn't have to go that far before they could hear the ruckus the reindeer were making. Aster's ears were flattened against his skull to dampen the noise, but it wasn't much help. The noise was almost deafening, so much so that Aster even saw North wince.

It was hard to tell exactly what was going on just by the cacophony alone. Aster could hear the bleating of the distressed reindeer mixed with high grinding noises and crashing sounds. It was a strange blend that most definitely did not belong together and gave no hint as to what, exactly, was going on.

The sounds only escalated the closer they got, and North's expression was growing more and more stormy the longer it went on. Aster almost felt sorry for whatever poor drongo thought it was a good idea ta mess with the temperamental Cossack.

The usually jolly man stopped before the large metal double doors, glancing back at Aster briefly before swinging the doors wide open.

"Ah, crickey." Aster gasped, gaping at the chaos North's stables had fallen into.

The place was a mess. Ice everywhere, slicking the floor and climbing up the walls, and standing in tall thick pillars around the room. The reindeer were all outside their stalls, slipping all around the floor like particularly bad ice skaters. Every time one of them tried to get their feet their legs would splay out and they'd go careening into a wall.

Dancer seemed to have had enough and decided it would be easier to just fly out of the way. That plan backfired beautifully when his huge hooves slipped as he kicked off the ground and he went barreling -antlers over tail- into Vixen, who ricocheted into Comet who landed on Donner who toppled into Prancer, who went careening into Dasher and Cupid, knocking them both down then slamming into Blitzen's side landing them both in a pile of tangled legs.

Aster, North, and Phil stood in the doorway, gawking at the sight, not able to lift a finger to prevent the imminent crash. After a moment of stunned silence they shared a quick look before braving the slippery floor in an effort to help the poor creatures.

North, the first to attempt to cross the ice misjudged the slickness of the floor and he went down, taking Phil along for the ride. Aster was a little smarter in his approach and clung to the walls as he crept across the icy planks. His paws were freezing and it was a trick just staying upright, but he faired better then North and that was always something to be proud of.

As North and Phil were trying to pull themselves to their feet the big man froze a look of surprise painted across his face when the ink staining his forearm began tingling. That moment, suspended between movements was enough to make him loose his balance on the slick floor. North's thick arms pin wheeled wildly as he tried desperately to not go down, but it was too late. He went down hard, the slick floor sending him careening across the room, bowling right into Aster's unstable legs. The pooka didn't stand a chance, toppling down on top of him with a fervently muttered, "Strewth!"

There was a gentle clang from beneath him and Aster twisted his head around to see what had made the sound, his eyes settling on a round glass ball with a handful of glitter inside. "Uh, North?" He intoned as he watched the globe roll slowly out of his reach.

As Aster watched a pair of delicate human feet landed by North's portal. Green eyes trailed up the snow white ankles and slender legs to a tattered pair of buckskin pants and a white shirt that had seen better days. The boy bent down and reached out to pick up the globe and Aster was able to see his face.

Just as he had thought, the familiar elfin features of the mysterious winter spirit grinned impishly and the boy had to brush ivory hair out of his face as he gave the globe a good hard shake. The image was surprisingly childish, and astonishingly beautiful. Wide blue eyes flitted over to lock with Aster's emerald and the kid smirked before dashing off, and Aster's breath caught in his throat.

Laughter trailed after the boy like little diamonds dropping on a plate of crystal and Aster found his eyes tracking the kid towards the door.

North didn't even seem to realize that he was now missing one of his magical snow globes, or he probably would have teased Aster relentlessly for his gob smacked expression. Luckily for the Easter Spirit, North was too busy checking his Naughty and Nice lists to really pay attention to his surroundings.

North was used to small changes happening all the time as children got in and out of trouble, but those changes were so subtle that he seldom even noticed them anymore. This on the other hand, was different. Someone had just done something so…Naughty that they had jumped straight to the very top of the list.

"Hmm….Jack Frost." He read out loud, not recognizing the name.

Aster looked at North briefly in confusion before snapping back to where the intruder had wandered. He glanced down at the boy's bare feet, not at all surprised to see the foxes' face grinning up at him from between the boy's spindly little legs.

The boy was leaning on his staff and grinning with a pleased sparkle in his bluer then blue eyes, but he snapped to attention the moment that name left North's lips.

North also looked up, locking eyes with the boy and looking as equally surprised as the sprite, who appeared desperate to say something. The kid had barely opened his mouth when the shadows around him abruptly came to life.

The fox snarled at the same time Aster did, and North swore, swiftly drawing his swords. The boy, Jack, yelped in surprise and whacked the closest one on the head with his crook. The creature dissolved and Jack darted forward to reach the Guardian's side, but more of the creatures materialized in front of him, causing him to pull up short and stumble backwards as they lunged at him.

Aster, too, tried to reach the boy, not liking how all those slimy beasts swarmed on him. But it was no use, Pitch's creatures slowly herded the boy further and further away from them.

Aster was surprised when the boy growled (sounding quite a bit like that little fox of his) and pulled his staff up in a sweeping motion. Magic lanced out of his staff, destroying all the shadowy monsters it touched but it didn't even seem to make a dent in the wall of shadows keeping them apart.

The winter sprite huffed, obviously seeing a futile battle and he retreated with one last searching look at North. Then both he and the fox were gone with one strong gust of wind that somehow managed to knock both Guardian's off their feet.

Once the boy left the shadows also vanished. Aster wanted to go after the boy and demand answers, but he knew that wouldn't do any good.

They needed a plan.

Next to him, North climbed carefully to his feet before reaching to help Aster up. "You are correct. Iz very suspicious."

And that was that.

With North on board it was only a matter of time before they had the boy, weather or not it would be against the kid's will was yet to be seen.

_*****Frostbunny***** _

Night came and went with Jack in a daze, caught somewhere between excitement, confusion, and crushing disappointment.

They knew his name.

Jack had no idea who they were, but that wasn't important because they knew him. And better still, they could _see_ him. He had so many questions for them, but those stupid shadowy…things had shown up again.

But even that was unimportant because now Jack knew. He knew they were there, knew exactly where they lived even.

He would have to wait a few days before going back, of course, since it took a bit of time to fly there and he didn't want to leave the children unprotected for too long.

But he also couldn't _not_ go back.

Fyren wiggled his way under Jack's arm and nudged his tightly clenched fist with his little green nose, drawing Jack's attention down to his prize. He lifted it closer to his face and gave it a good shake creating a little blizzard in the tiny glass globe. He watched it for a few minutes in silence before saying in a soft voice, almost afraid to give life to his thoughts lest they vanish like so much dreamsand. "They saw me, Fyren. They saw me!" After the last few weeks with only a dream fox for company this seemed like a pretty big deal to Jack.

Fyren just stared up at him, silently understanding. It was a nice feeling, and he knew that no matter what happened Fyren would always be with him.

Slender frost white fingers gently shook the snow-globe again and Jack watched the glitter storm swirl harmlessly on the delicate little plastic world.

_*****Frostbunny***** _

The two Guardians quickly relocated to the Globe room when it became obvious the boy and Pitch's shadows were all indeed gone.

None of the reindeer had been injured in the mayhem the boy had initiated, but they were all twitchy and easily startled.

North had immediately ordered a handful of yeti's to assist Phil in getting them all settled. Then he'd led the way back into the workshop proper.

A fresh glass of eggnog was thrust into Aster's paw, the strong scent of alcohol wafting up from the drink. Aster's nose twitched, but he took a hearty gulp of the liquid as he collapsed on a nearby bench.

There was a long moment of silence before either man spoke, both staring into their drinks, completely lost in their own thoughts.

It was North who finally broke the silence. "Iz same boy, right? Dis Jack Frost?"

One of Aster's ears turned in North's direction when he started speaking and the pooka waited until he was ready to give his answer before looking up from his own glass. "Yeah, mate. It's the same larkin." He raised his drink for another swallow but paused as a new thought occurred to him, "How'd 'e get inta yer stables anyway?" They were supposed to be extremely high tech (Aster had designed those doors himself) no bloody dag should be able to get in without serious damage…either to themselves or the mechanics.

North was quick to respond, like always, but froze with one meaty finger hanging in the air, mouth gaping open. "Dat iz good question." He admitted reluctantly, and his following bellow of "Phil!" was loud enough to plaster Aster's ears to his head. Ears ringing he glowering at the other male from over his frothy glass of eggnog. North just shrugged unrepentantly, an easy going smile curling his mustache, but it quickly fell away into a scowl, "Ah yes…Phil iz with reindeer."

Aster just rolled his eyes, far to used to his old friend's antics to really take him seriously anymore. "So, the kid's on yer list?" He asked.

"Yes." North said solemnly, "I've never seen de boy's name before, but der it iz. On very top of Naughty List." North promptly stuffed his arm under Aster's nose, causing the pooka to jerk away in surprise.

Grumbling, Aster pushed North's hand back to a reasonable distance before even trying to look for himself. And, yep, there it was. Just as North said, sitting on the very top of the Naughty list, right under the bold title, were the words 'Jack Frost' in black curly penmanship.

Aster blinked, looking up to meet North's eyes an unspoken question passing between them. _"What did this even mean?"_

Aster wasn't clear on all the details, but even he knew North's tattoos kept track of all the human kiddies by some sort of magic. "Ah didn't know yer tats included spirit kids." Not that he'd ever given it much thought, but there weren't exactly a lot of kids wandering around the spirit world and the ones that were, were easy to keep track of. Didn't exactly need some magical list for that.

"It does not." North agreed briskly, almost sounding offended and Aster quickly lifted his arm to show he didn't mean anything by it. North wasn't even paying attention, though, instead he was staring at his arm with such a confused and betrayed look that Aster almost felt like he was interrupting something.

His words didn't do anything to quell Aster's confusion. If North's Lists only tracked _human_ children, then why was the boy's name on it. Cus Jack Frost may be many things, but he was in no way _human._

The boy seemed to radiate winter, obviously he was tied in with the seasons and weather in a way no simple human was capable of. Even North was more human than the kid, but the man's magic was also vastly different.

But strange magical boys aside, they had other things to discuss and it was obvious that North's mind was far too distracted by his malfunctioning magic and so it would fall to Aster to keep the conversation going.

He really hated socializing.

A heavy weight seemed to settle on his shoulders, dragging his ears to the ground but he couldn't put it off, "What are we gonna do 'bout Pitch?" He asked at last, rubbing his brow to stem off the headache he could feel building behind his eyes.

As he had suspected, the mention of Pitch seemed to light a fire in North and he reared up like a wild stallion. "Yes! Pitch. He iz up to no good, I feel it. In my belly."

Aster's paw flattened against his face and he dragged it slowly downwards, a soft groan passing over his lips. Not this again.

North seemed to take offense with his disbelief and huffed at him, "You saw shadows, you know Pitch was here. He iz planning something big, and boy iz smack dab in middle of it." Aster pinned him with a dry look, "Iz obvious he set dis up. Sent boy to sabotage stables an' upset reindeer!"

Aster flicked his ears in exasperation, "Ahm not so sure, mate. Doesn't really seem like 'is style ta me."

"Style?" North huffed, "Boogieman has no style."

Aster rolled his eyes at North's obliviousness, "Whatever ya say, North." He was quite done arguing with the man for now, raising to his feet and dropping his empty glass to one of the elves scrambling around his paws then headed for the door.

North didn't even notice he was moving for a while, too busy ranting to himself. Aster was already halfway out the door by the time North realized he was talking to himself. "Bunny! Where are you going? We have plans to make." He snapped, storming after the pooka.

Aster paused, turning back with a crooked smile on his muzzle, "Ah think ya got this one, mate. An' ah've got work ta do. Easter's coming up right quick an' me googies won' paint themselves. Just give me a holler if ye need me help." He turned to leave but paused as a thought occurred to him, "O' yeah. Ya might wanna check yer snow globe, mate." He called over his shoulder.

He got to see North frantically checking his pockets as he left, the Cossack's explosive cursing following after him.

Aster was still laughing as he dropped down an open tunnel into his Warren, feeling lighter then he had since this whole mess had started.

_*****Frostbunny***** _

A quivering black shadow slunk into the yawning pit of Pitch's lair, a steady stream of 'not good's' echoing through it's head.

Master had said keep Frost Child away from Guardians.

Not good.

Keep separate. Keep alone…but they had messed up. Guardians meet Frost Child.

Not good!

Master would be furious.

Wasn't sure how it happened, boy tricksy and escape them. Gone!

Gone. But they find him! They find him and separate them. Keep alone. But they meet.

Not good.

Master must be told.

Other shadows all vanish.

Cowards.

All of them.

Master has temper and it wants to slink away too.

Vanish.

Not good.

Can't do it.

The little shadow slinks into the cavernous thrown room and easily spy's Pitch. The tall lanky figure was standing before the huge nightmare globe, a hulking creation pieced together by scraps of fear-iron. It was all sharp edges and gaping holes, a grotesque sort of beauty that took up a large portion of the room.

Pitch struck a tall silhouette against the sea of gleaming lights, staring into the proof of his every failure, with his hands clasped behind his back.

Not good. Definitely not good.

Not wanting to disturb his King, but not daring to put it off, the little shadow slid along the wall and across the open floor until he was able to whisper his findings into his Master's ear.

Once done the shadow drew back to the wall, and if it had been alive it would have been holding it's breath unable to do anything more then cower and await his Master's reaction.

Not good.

Pitch was like a statue, standing intimidating still until he twisted his head, pinning the shadow with white-gold eyes, "What?" Master hissed.

The shadow trembled.

notgoodnotgoodnotgood

"What part of keep him away from the Guardians did you not understand?" Pitch's eyes seemed to glow with malicious intent as he glared at his quivering servant, who shrank away, almost disappearing completely. "It was one simple command…but no matter."

Pitch's voice changed from the sharp blade hissing through the air to a warm purr as he turned to one of the nightmare colts hovering nearby. He crooked a spindly finger under it's sharp face and watched it practically vibrate under his attention. "You haven't ruined everything, this is still salvageable. Just don't mess up again."

Not good.


End file.
